


One Step at a Time

by BecauseItsALittleHumid



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Indulgent, Slightly Smutty, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, big adventure, commitment issues abound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28678674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseItsALittleHumid/pseuds/BecauseItsALittleHumid
Summary: Glade Foli never put much stock in fate. She never put much stock in anything that didn't get her to where she needed to go. But when she finds herself face to face with a Mandalorian who just happens to  be going to where she's trying to get, she might just consider it.A story in which two lonely people are searching for something and when that something is found, it might not be the sun shine and rainbow moment they expected. But she needs a ride and he doesn't mind the company.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

There are moments in your life that stay with you. Not grand events or dramatic climaxes. They aren't necessarily good or bad, just bits. Moments in which you feel something shift, when your stomach drops or your heart skips a beat. When your eyes widen or your breath hitches. Little moments of the universe changing its direction. Were all these little moments predestined? Are these gut reactions an ancient instinct, long forgotten, that pull us to where we're meant to be? Or are we simply clawing from one shift to the next, clinging onto the whirlpool of our lives hoping that this pull in the vortex will be the one that really matters?

I hadn't made up my mind yet.

This was one of those moments. Soon as I spotted him across the railing of the ring, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Ah, there it is. Something was coming and I knew it was trouble. Truth be told I have a knack for attracting it.  
Sure, I can sit here and tell you that it has a way of finding me and I can lie and say how I longed for something quieter, more peaceful. But that wouldn't be the whole truth of it. You see, danger had become part of my genetic code. I learned to recognize it before I could even talk. It became familiar, a constant state. Anything else was... untrustworthy.

My hometown wasn't exactly under the protection of the Empire. All I remember was hiding from bandits and raiders. Learning from no age that there was a galactic food chain, and weak townspeople were very much at the bottom. Any who, long story short, slavers arrived when I was 8 or 9. I was separated from my parents and my two brothers and we were all shipped off to opposite ends of the galaxy. Bye, bye domesticity. Shortly after that I was sold to a gang of mercenaries. I was small and nimble fingered so I cleaned their weapons, wired things they couldn't reach. They soon grew fond of me and, well, perhaps 'adopted' is a strong word but they let me in. Trained me to shoot, to get in and out of tight spots, take things that weren't exactly mine. That sort of thing. In any case, I was a petty criminal by the time I turned 13. I think. I can't really recall. We didn't do birthdays.

Then there came the falling out. I was on the cusp of adulthood and technically the gang still owned me. I naively thought that since this band of criminals had so warmly welcomed me into their little club that I must be a free woman. That I was able to make my own decisions, do my own jobs, run my own life. A stupid thing to think, really.  
So when a man claiming to be my brother came knocking with the offer to whisk me away back to normality, of course I wanted to go with him. I discussed this openly with the leader of the Mercenaries, an old Twi'lek named Karmon. He seemed agreeable at first and I hoped against my better instinct that this was one of the positive shifts in my life. My neck stiffened and my throat tightened, yes, something was about to happen. Little did I know that Karmon would turn around and shoot my brother in the temple.

"You have to understand something, Glade," he said to me, his horrible carnivorous teeth baring the whole time, "You belong to me. You have always belonged to me. You will always belong to me."

I've never forgotten those words. They hang around my neck as if he'd chained me then and there. No matter how far I ran from him, those words were my shackles. Until that bastard was dead, they would remain there.

But enough about me.

He'd just walked into Gor Koresh's crummy arena.

I hated this planet. Don't get me wrong it was a handy pitstop, but it was so desolate. All grey fumes and dirt. Even inside, a thick layer of ash sat over everything. I looked down to my drink and pushed it away with a grimace upon noticing the silky layer of dust floating at the top.  
I'd signaled to the droid to bring me another one, was about to argue with it for trying to charge me twice, when the door opened and there he stood. Silver shining metal head to toe. A statue, a gargoyle, a herald of his quarries' doom. The room was still a blur of violent tempers and excited jeering, but even through the fighters clashing axes, even through the yelling and chanting and flailing of impassioned arms, I watched as he made his way steadily towards the very man I had come to see. I sat further back in my seat, allowing the shadow of the dim yellow lamps to fall over my features.

It wasn't everyday you saw a Mandalorian. I knew from the stories that they were the best warriors in the Galaxy, but rumors of this particular tin can was that he was a ruthless bounty hunter. And more often than not, whenever I crossed paths with a bounty hunter, they were after my head. Karmon wasn't above hiring outside parties to hunt me down. I was flattered that he'd sent a Mandalorian after me. Perhaps he was getting as tired of this ten year goose chase as I was.

When he sat down beside Gor Koresh, I noticed the little green thing. My curiosity was piqued. What was he doing with a baby? I ran over the scenarios; had he simply found it? Had it been kidnapped, was he returning it? Had he kidnapped it? I watched it as it looked around the arena with a wide eyed wonder. Not the reaction to a bloodthirsty sparring match I expected from something so adorable.

Alright Glade, don't get distracted. I tried to think of an exit strategy. The information I needed from the cyclops godfather would just have to wait. Odds were, that Mando was here for me. I needed to run.

I necked the last of my dusty beverage and stood up from my place in the stands, silently passing through the crowds and towards the nearest exit. When I got outside I pulled my hooded cloak around my arms to try and stifle away some of the cold. It was sweaty and warm in the arena, outside was getting close to freezing. I figured my best option was to make my way to the docking bays, buy passage to somewhere remote and unwelcoming and come back when the glorified tea kettle had gone.

It was a plan. A good one at that. Or it would have been had all the pilots docked at this time of night not been a bunch of racketeering bastards.

"Two hundred credits is a fair enough deal," I hissed to my final option. The old bearded pilot simply folded his arms.

"You want me to smuggle you off world with no questions asked. Gods know what kinda trouble you'll bring with ya. 500 credits. I ain't riskin' it for nothing less."

I huffed out a breath of cold air, "I'll- I'll work for the rest of it. Need anything fixed? I'm pretty handy with a screwdriver."

The old man shook his head, "Do I look like I'm in the market for an employee?" he said, gesturing to his run down old smuggling ship, but true enough, several assistant droids hammered away at the particularly rusted bits.

"Fine," I sighed, kicking a stone out of my way as I turned back around. Maybe I could hide on this planet. It was a dingy old place, all metal structures that jutted the landscape like broken bones, but maybe 200 credits would be enough to buy someone's silence... I kicked the stone again, following it's path to the end of the docking bays. A quieter part, all the bays were empty except for one.

There it sat, under a single dim yellow floodlight. A Razorcrest. I arched my brow and looked around for any sign of an owner, but I knew in my mind who that crusty old ship belonged to. It wasn't everyday you saw a Razorcrest.  
I tip toed up the gangway towards it, holding my breath against the silence that surrounded the old ship. It was like a ghost. Like a tombstone in some ancient burial ground, too lonely to be visited by anyone. The closer I got, the more run down it looked. Gods it was a miracle that thing even flew.

I shouldn't have even been near this thing. If my gut was right (and it usually is) then this belonged to the Tin Can. Said Tin Can was probably gaining on me by the second but, that little danger craving part of my brain decided it would be a good idea to try and break into the run down hunk of junk. There had to be something shiny in there. Something I could sell, something that would give me enough credits to buy Gor Koresh's information and passage off this shithole.

Beskar.

That decided it. I trotted over to the hanger bay doors, shut and locked tight of course, but that didn't mean I couldn't get past them. An old ship like that wouldn't have the security protocols of a newer model, so it was easy to pinpoint the emergency entrance lever on the underside. With a few clicks and sparks the old girl hissed and sighed as the doors opened. I laughed breathlessly as they did. The same rush of adrenalin coursing though me as it always did when I fed the little danger monster.

I clambered on board as gracefully as I could, what with the walkway still maneuvering. I cringed at every groan and clank.

"Alright, keep it down," I hissed. The ship jolted unhappily as the doors finally hushed and I was properly onboard. I stuck out my tongue in return and began my search.

Admittedly, there wasn't anything of much value at first glance. There were a few empty crates, a couple of empty food cans and an old damaged droid in the wall. I scanned over it, picking through it's corpse for any mechanics that might have been salvageable. A few optic cables, 100 credits at most. I sighed and shoved them into my pockets regardless.

Turning once more to scan the hull I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes. Surely he had something of value. What a sad existence it would be to only have a dead droid to your name.

That's when I noticed it. The thin seam in the wall. I immediately ran my hand down it, tapping the metal and listening. Hollow. There was something behind there. Another quick scan and my eyes found a control panel and yes! With a whoosh the wall opened up and there before me sat a treasure trove of destruction. Hand grenades, blasters and rifles all neatly perched and ripe for the picking. I couldn't help my fiendish chuckle.

I was enraptured by the standard of weaponry that the Tin Can had hoarded. Some of the blasters were so elegantly made that they looked more decorative than useful. They'd fetch a hefty price either way. Still I couldn't help but admire them. I ran my fingers over the cold metal and told myself that no, I didn't want to keep it for myself. That yes, I'd have to sell it. Information about Derrel was more important than a pretty blaster.

"Put it down, slowly," said a disconnected voice at my back, followed swiftly by the cold barrel of a gun on my neck. I slouched in disappointment. Should've paid a lookout. I silently cursed myself for my oversight but did as the voice asked and set down the blaster.

"Hands where I can see them," he said and again, I did as he asked.

"Quite the armory you've got here. A little excessive for one person but everyone has their quirks, I suppose," I said brightly. He said nothing. Barely made a sound. If not for the ever present feeling of his gun at the base of my skull I would have doubted he was there at all. I glanced around quickly, survival instinct taking over as I thought of any possible means I had of escape. Nothing seemed to be jumping out that wasn't a complete gamble. The cooing noises of the baby distracted me. It distracted him too. A split second he took the gun off my neck, a fraction of a second.

It was all I needed.

I spun immediately, punching up into his elbow to disarm him, kicking his feet out from under him too. He stumbled back and dropped the blaster. I picked it up and pointed it at his head. He hesitated, the cold expressionless helmet almost glaring at me. I smiled.

"Here's what's going to happen," I said lowly. He didn't move, but I noticed the green thing whimper from his floating cot. I ignored it and looked back to the helmet.

"You're going to let me take some of your fancy guns and then you're going to let me off your ship with as little fuss as possible," I continued, leaning down to be eye level with him, "Then you're going to go back to Karmon and tell him you never saw me. Better yet, tell him I'm dead." The helmet seemed to tilt slightly to the side.

"Why would I do any of that?" he said coolly.

I scoffed in confusion, pressing the gun right to his helmet so that it gave a soft clink.

"Because I have a blaster at your head and the safety off. Not even your fancy beskar can stop a shot at point blank range." I didn't know whether that was true. I'd heard stories about the wonders of Beskar, but I figured, bluffing had got me this far in life.

It seemed to give him pause and I thought that I had won the day, about to smile at my own dastardly cleverness once again. That was until I felt my throat tighten.

No, not tighten, it was closing.

I dropped the blaster and stumbled back a few paces, clutching at my neck in a desperate panic. I couldn't even think of why this was happening, only that it was and it felt remarkably like dying. I choked out and gasped and fell to the floor, barely noticing as the Mando rushed over to the green thing. It was standing in its little metal cot, big dreamy eyes shut, three fingered claw outstretched.

"Kid, enough!" I heard the Mando call and almost instantaneously, my lungs heaved and I could breathe again. I rolled over onto my back, coughing and hacking and gasping for air.

"What the fuck," I whimpered through my coughing, only realizing the tears on my cheeks as I continued, "What the fuck was that?"

The Mandalorian didn't answer, only hauled me too my feet and shoved me into the wall, his metal forearm pinning me to the spot and once again, cutting off the little air supply that I had.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

My hands grabbed at the metal on my throat until he released it, only slightly. It was enough that I could speak.

"How did he do that," I gasped, my mind still reeling at how suddenly and how close I'd come to dying.

"Who are you," he repeated, pressing the metal against my throat that bit harder.

I choked out, "I just wanted to get information."

"What information? for who?"

I shook my head, still grappling at the weight on my neck. Black spots were flooding my vision.

"Nothing, for no one... I need- I needed the credits..."

It was in that moment when he took a step back and I fell to my knees, that I realized I had bitten off more than I could chew. I rubbed my bruising neck and sobbed. Choking and sputtering tears ran down my face as the reality of my situation dawned on me.

He was going to kill me, or worse bring me back to Karmon. All chances of ever finding Derrel disappeared like the ever darkening edges of my vision. As my strength gave out and my world around me faded, I wondered what he looked like now. I wondered did he still have that mop of curls and the same bright green eyes. I wondered did he still snort at the end of his laugh, did the gap in his teeth ever close. I wondered would he remember me. He was the youngest when the slavers came. I'd tried to keep him with me but he was wrenched from my arms. My little brother... the only family I had left. Now I'd never find him.

He'd never even know that I'd tried.


	2. Chapter 2

The throbbing behind my eyes was the first thing that I noticed. In fact, it alone was enough to bring me back to consciousness. I groaned and tried to open my eyes.

 _Oof_. Bad idea. The headache roared and I groaned again, trying to raise myself a little more. That's when I felt the cuffs around my wrists and all thoughts of headaches vanished.

My eyes shot open, panic flooding my muscles. I looked down to my wrists and true enough, restraints had me chained to a hook on the wall. I rattled them in a futile effort to free myself and cursed when they didn't magically give way. I looked around, trying to get a grip on how fucked I really was, but calmed myself when I recognized the hull of the Razorcrest. There was a low hum vibrating off the floor, telling me that I was indeed on the move. That was something. He hadn't killed me. Which meant he was bringing me back to Karmon alive. There was a chance at escape, at least. Less than 50/50 but more so than if I was dead. I liked those odds.

I shook once more at the restraints, pulling at the hook on the wall to see if I could loosen it. No matter what way I tugged or contorted, it wouldn't budge.

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath, then again, "Fuck!" I shrieked as I caught sight of the little green monster perched beside me. I shirked away from it, backing myself into the corner of the hull. It simply tilted its head and stared up at me, babbling adorable nonsense.

"Nope, you're not fooling me kid," I hissed, backing away from it again. He stepped closer, a small giggle falling from his tiny smiling mouth.

The further I curled myself away from it, the closer it waddled towards me, stopping only when it clung gently to my ankle. I swallowed hard and tried to remember what this _thing_ had done to me. No matter how cute he looked peering up at me with those big eyes, it had almost killed me. I knew danger and this was it.

Heavy footsteps came down the ladder at the far side of the hull. Metal on metal, the clanging bell announcing the arrival of the Tin Can. I looked up from his tiny companion and met his gaze. Or... I would have, had he not been wearing the helmet. It was an impassable thing. The only hint that there was a human under there was the thin black slat where his eyes should be. Even that was impossible to see through. He was terrifying, in all honesty. Like a droid but just human enough to remind you that any and all terrors he could inflict on you were his doing. You couldn't blame it on some programming chip. There was a man under there capable of anything, and that would forever be more frightening than some droid.

I tried to straighten my posture. A stupid attempt to hide my fear but my hands were shaking and my heart was thundering in my ears. He could probably tell a mile off. But then something happened that made me pause.

The little green thing waddled hurriedly towards him, reached up with tiny outstretched hands and the Mandalorian... picked him up. It was such a gentle, unpracticed motion that it put a tap on my fear. There was a kindness in how softly he handled the child, how easily he cradled it in one arm. I looked to the child as it babbled and smiled once more then back to the cold glare of the helmet. I swallowed hard, unsure where this left me, but I knew in my gut that there was more to this bounty hunter than met the eye.

"You said you were looking for information," he said suddenly and I couldn't hide my startled flinch.

I nodded dumbly, looking between him and the child.

"What kind of information?" he asked, frustration lining his muffled voice.

His question brought my guard up.

"I told you. Nothing."

"Why were you on my ship?" he continued.

"I was trying to rob you,"

"You were watching me,"

"No I wasn't."

"In Kor Goreth's place, yes, you were."

 _Shit._ He was good. I wasn't surprised really, someone of his reputation would probably make a check list of every threat in the room.

"There are people after me," I said, hoping that would convey enough.

The helmet tilted once again. Obviously not.

"Look," I said, tugging at the restraints on my wrists. "I thought... I thought an old friend of mine had hired you to take me out. It's becoming clear to me that might not have been the case." I ran my eyes over him once more, trying to gage any sort of reaction. Gods it was impossible. A lot of my survival had been based off reading people, and now here was this metal statue before me. Unknowable and yet able to know me. He could probably read every twitch, every fumble, every pitch of my voice.

I'd never felt so vulnerable.

"What was the information," he pressed.

I furrowed my brow, "Nothing to do with you, or your..." I gestured in the vague direction of the green thing.

"Then why were you on my ship?"

I rolled my eyes, "I'm telling the truth."

"You're heart rate says otherwise."

I swallowed. Exposed. Known. Threatened. I was an open book to him.

The thought that he might just kill me crossed my mind once more. I was a threat to him, he should take me out and think nothing of it. Why was he so concerned about why I was here... unless. I held my head higher. I knew his line of questioning. I'd asked those questions. I'd had that same edge of paranoia in my voice.

Someone was hunting him.

"I'll tell you the truth it you take off these restraints," I bargained.

There was a moment when he looked down to my hands that I thought he might acquiesce my request. He looked back up.

"No deal," he muttered, turning his back to me and setting the child in a little hammock above his bunk. I hissed a curse under my breath. He seemed to punch in a number on the control pad causing another section of the wall to hiss and wheeze as it pulled itself apart. Once the cold steam cleared, a new wave of terror gripped my spine.

Like some sort of macabre of filing system, empty carbon freezing frames lined the wall of the ship. Is this what his plan for me was? I'd heard about these things, Karmon would use them on occasion when he was hired to find someone. It froze you solid, turned you into a grotesque statue but kept you conscious, kept you alive. Locked in your own body in the dark and cold. Karmon would keep people there for weeks... months. His victims, more than once, emerged mindless and deranged.

The Mandalorian gripped my shoulder and pushed me forward towards it. I dug my heals in desperately.

"Wait, wait, wait," I stuttered, pushing against him, trying to escape. It was no use, he all but lifted me off the ground towards it. I punched and kicked, shouting protests and promises. He through me into the frame regardless.

"Wait don't I'll tell you the truth, please, just please don't!"

He seemed to hesitate, the slat on his helmet watching me closely, searching my panicked face for the lie.

"Talk," he said, his finger hovering over the button.

"Alright, alright, just take it easy," I panted, holding out my hands in an inane attempt to placate him.

"My name is Glade Foli, I needed pay Gor Koresh for information about someone I'm looking for. I saw you in the arena, I panicked. I thought he'd sent you after me."

"Who?" he snapped.

I put my hands up again, my eyes fixed to the end of his finger that hung dangerously close to the button now.

"A previous employer. Please, I can't tell you much more. Secrecy is the only thing that's keeping me alive."

That seemed to register. His hand slowly backed away from the button and I breathed a long sigh of relief. I didn't move, however. He was unpredictable and the silence between us set my nerves on edge.

Finally, he took a step back and I let my head fall as relief quelled my rising panic. I laughed out a breath and took a step forward, hoping he'd let me go now that we'd become somewhat amicable.

"I never saw you," he said suddenly and I met his gaze. "I never saw you and you never saw me. Or the kid."

I nodded slowly, "It's a deal."

Carefully, I offered him my chained hand. He shook it reluctantly but it was enough to relax me that bit more. At least now I knew for sure that he wouldn't kill me, or freeze me... I hoped. I could live with the handcuffs, so long as I could get of this blasted ship and back to Gor Koresh then that would suit me down to the ground.

He lead me away from the Carbon freezer and back to my corner of the hull. I watched as he once again chained me back in place, examining the way he moved fluidly, even under all that Beskar.

"Is it heavy?" I asked.

"No."

"Looks heavy," I continued.

"It's not," came his curt response.

I shut my mouth then. He obviously wasn't one for small talk. As he made his way back up the ladder, I caught sight of the little green thing watching me. It gurgled happily from its hammock.

"What is he?" I asked the Mando.

He sighed, one foot on the ladder.

"No more questions," he said.

"You don't even know, do you?" I chuckled.

He hesitated, his head tilting towards me in a strangely exasperated manner.

"You said your secrecy has kept you alive. Offer me the same courtesy."

I shut my mouth again, mouthing a quick 'sorry' before he punched one of the control buttons and the door to the green thing's room shut tight.

"When we land, we go our separate ways. You never saw me, I never saw you. Got it?" he said.

I nodded, "Got it."

"You might need to find a new information broker," he said lowly.

"What do you mean?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, "Kor Goresh is... No longer in business."

I narrowed my eyes and fixed him with a glare, "What do you _mean?_ "

He folded his arms and shifted the weight on his feet. A certain kind of arrogance oozing off the motion. I knew exactly what he meant.

"You son of a bitch," I hissed.

He seemed startled by that.

"You son of a bitch!" I leapt up and tried to lunge at him, but the chain around my wrists only stretched so far. He stood still, arms folded. Impassable.

"Do you know how long it took me to find a broker that wouldn't rat me out?" I shouted.

"Get some rest, we still have a ways to go. Besides, there's hundreds of information brokers on Tatooine."

He turned away from me once more and moved effortlessly up the ladder.

"Wait," I whispered, dread once again filling my lungs, "Tatooine? Did you say Tatooine?" I shouted.

He responded by shutting the hatch to the cockpit.

_Fuck._

"Shit, fucking fuck!"

I wrenched at the restraints once more. I couldn't go to Tatooine. He had so many eyes there that I may as well just hand myself in. I grunted as I through all my strength into pulling my hands out of the cuffs, perched my feet on the wall and heaved. Still, they didn't budge. If anything they seemed to be growing tighter. I cursed again, this time at the pain that throbbed up my left hand. This wasn't going to work.

"Mando?" I called out. No answer. I clenched my teeth and rattled my chains, "Mando, I know you can hear me!"

Silence.

"Fine, you wanna play it that way," I hissed, "We'll play it that way."

I glanced around the hull, looking for anything sharp or small enough that I could jam the locking mechanism. Then my eyes fell to the Droid in the wall. And the very sharp blade that jutted out of its destroyed arm. I shuffled towards it as close as I could, but it was too far out of reach. By a foot at least. I measured the distance once more and slowly stuck out my leg. Yes, that would reach. In one fell swoop I swept out my leg and clipped the edge of the droid so that it fell forward. Another kick and it inched forward again.

Admittedly this wasn't the most dignified means of escape or the most quiet, but it was all I had. That was until I kicked it too hard and the stupid thing fell to the other side, just out of my legs reach.

"Shit," I panted.

The hushed creaking of the door in front of me pulled at my attention. From out behind it peaked a pair of big brown eyes and an even bigger pair of ears. For a moment we stared at each other, both of us sizing the other up. Was it worth the venture?

"Hey," I began, my voice a gentle whisper, "Hey little guy!"

He seemed to frown and shake his head, letting the door close over again.

"No, no, no, no! Wait!"

He peeked out once more with a giggle. I tried to smile through my gritted teeth. Gods, I hated kids.

"You wanna play a game little guy?" I asked. The door opened fully and he looked to me expectantly.

"Yeah?"

He giggled once more and began to clamber down from his perch in the Tin Can's bunk.

"Great! This- this is a game called... free the prisoner! You wanna play?"

I took his excited chirp as confirmation.

"Okay so, to play, you uh... You need to give me the pointy bit off the old droid, understand?"

He tilted his head and fluttered his ears, looking between me and the dead droid. Finally he pointed at it and cooed. I may have hated kids, but you'd need to be one heartless bastard not to find this little thing adorable.

"Yes! That's it! Bring me the pointy thing!"

I watched as he waddled leisurely over to the old droid. He pointed at it and cooed once more and I nodded.

"Yep! That's it!" I smiled though it felt strained.

He reached up and with all his little might, grabbed at the blade and shook it. It struck me then how dangerous this was. It was incredibly irresponsible of me to expect an infant to aid me in my escape, even more so that I was trying to get him to handle a very dangerous weapon. Needs must.

He continued to shake at the old droid, his little wears flapping about in effort. Not long after, however, he gave up with a frustrated little grunt and fell back.

"No! No, come on little guy, you were so close!"

He looked back to me, his ears all tilted down, big eyes tearful.

"You can do it! Just keep at it!" I tried to encourage him but he continued to sit where he was, staring up at the blade.

I sighed and slumped back down onto the crate behind me.

"I suppose it was worth a try," I said, more to myself than to him. He cooed once more and I looked up to watch as he propped himself back up.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I said.

He tilted his head and looked back up to the droid, shutting his eyes and extending one small claw. I recognized that stance from last time. You know, when he was trying to choke me to death.

"Kid..." I warned him.

He ignored me, his tiny little brow furrowing in effort. Soon the old droid began to shake, vibrate almost. It was as if it was being puppeteered by a drunk. The long dead lights in its eyes began to flash and its voice box chattered nonsense. Then, almost out of nowhere, the blade on the end of it's arm shot out towards me, imbedding itself in the steel wall above my head. I shrieked and ducked away from it, the dead droid falling silent once more as the child fell back in exhaustion. I tried to hide my panicked breathing.

"Hey, little guy?"

He peered around to me his eyes heavy and dull. Without another sound, he curled up on the spot and fell asleep. I wasted no time in turning the moment to my advantage.  
Squashing out the concern I had for him falling asleep on the cold floor, I began sawing away at the cuffs. It was an awkward position to twist into, I had to stand on the crate and reach my arms up over the blade to the sharpest side but it was doable. I laughed in relief when the blade began cutting away at the steel. I tossed one more glance over my shoulder to check if the kid was still okay.

His little shoulders were falling up and down at a steady rate. He was fine. Wasn't he? I mean, I hadn't a clue what he'd just done, or how he was even able to do it. But he'd done it and if there was something wrong he wouldn't be sleeping so peacefully as he was. I nodded to myself and got back to my sawing.

I'd have to put him back to bed. Yes, I'd do that, soon as I got myself free, I'd cozy him up in his little hammock as a thank you.

"Hah!" I cried as the restraints finally snapped open. I flexed my wrists with a smile as they clattered to the floor and turned back to the kid.

"Okay, little guy lets get you back- oh!"

He towered over me. Said little guy cradled in his arms. I hadn't heard him come down the ladder, hadn't even heard him open the hatch, but here he was. Just another reminder of how deadly he could be.

"Gods, you can be fairly quiet when you want to be," I laughed but the sound was forced and edged with fear. I watched as his shoulders rose up and down with each breath he took. I could picture the look on his face. Angry brow, flaring nostrils. I smiled weakly up at him.

"Don't talk to the kid," he snapped, putting him safely back into his hammock and shutting the door.

"Technically, he came to me," I said, but he shot me a look and I put my hands up defensively.

"You either sit here quietly until we land or I can stick you in the freezer. Your choice." He pointed a gloved finger at me. It felt strangely like I was being scolded. I pushed his hand away indignantly and glared at him.

"Drop me off before you get to Tatooine," I said.

"I don't have the time." He turned once more for the cockpit but I chased him.

"Look, you don't understand. If I'm seen on Tatooine, I'm dead."

He still didn't turn around so I tugged on his forearm to make him face me. He jumped at the contact and almost stumbled back. Almost. I was suddenly very aware of how cramped the space was between the ladder and the rest of the hull. We were close, close enough that I could see my breath condense on his helmet. The silence stretched out, unending. Like when you jump off a ledge and are waiting for the water beneath.

I cleared my throat and took a step back. The cold water washing over my head and bringing me back to reality.

"I'm lucky if I'm not shot on sight there," I said.

He let out a sigh, his helmet glancing to the door of his bunk, to floor and then back to me.

"I know someone there, she's trustworthy, you can stay with her," He turned back to the ladder and hesitated once more.

"When my business is finished on Tatooine, I'll drop you somewhere safe."

I folded my arms and looked at him. He seemed to shift under my stare but I held it. At first glance he would seem a statue, but now, watching him, the way his hand flexed on the rung of the ladder, the way the dim light caught his chest plate as he breathed. He was human. He could be gentle and kind and he could be merciless and cruel. I knew what side I would rather be on.

I shot my hand out to him.

"Deal," I said.

This time he didn't hesitate to shake it.


	3. Chapter 3

Tatooine was the same as it always was. Arid and dreary. Even if the suns beamed down constantly, their light wasn't pleasant. It was dry and barren and I thought I'd gotten away from it. I hated coming back here.

We landed in the afternoon, peak time for the sun, and after spending so long in the dark hull of a ship, it was practically blinding. I followed the Mandalorian from a distance as we exited his ship, my eyes scanning the bay quickly, looking for any and all signs of Karmon's people. It was a large hanger bay, a rusted old structure but steady and strangely empty. The only signs of life were 3 droids playing cards and a curly haired woman in a jumpsuit wielding a wrench. I leaned against the ship as Mando spoke with her quietly. She must have known them, she fussed over the child like a grandmother. But no matter how nonchalant I tried to be, no matter how much I told myself that I was being paranoid, being so out in the open like this terrified me. I pulled my hood further over my face.

"Who's the stowaway?" I heard the woman ask.

I looked up to see the two of them watching me. I didn't hear the Mandalorian's answer.

"Well she better know how to make herself useful," she said loudly and I scoffed. I'd stay on the ship. Easier that way. I'd stay on the ship and stay out of the way and when the Mandalorian was done, he'd give me safe passage to wherever the hell I wanted. Somewhere quiet where I could regroup. I couldn't risk asking questions here.

"Where is Mos Pelgo, it's not on any maps," I heard him say lowly and my stomach sank.

Mos Pelgo.

Images flashed in my head of a small kitchen. The smell of spices and the sound of laughter. Of giggling and clattering dishes. Of my mother's flustering over a steaming pot and my father's ashen face from the mines. My older brother and little Derrel wrestling before dinner. All fond things destroyed by flashes of red and the roaring of slaver ships.

"Hey," Mando clicked his fingers in front of me to snap me out of my daze. "You wait here, I have to-"

"I know Mos Pelgo," I said, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

"What?"

I looked up to meet his gaze, "I know where Mos Pelgo is," I repeated.

He seemed to watch me then, didn't say anything, but his shoulders had went all tense. Finally he turned back to the mechanic.

"You still got those speeder bikes?"

* * *

It didn't take us long after that to begin our journey towards Mos Pelgo. The speeder bikes that the woman gave us were old but they were fast, and travelling was pretty simple. We traversed the wide and barren plains of Tatooine in relative silence. Neither of us spoke during the first day. My mind was too caught up in a bramble of dread to even think about making small talk. Besides, if I'd learnt anything about our Mando in this short space of time, it's that he wasn't one for small talk.

I tried not to think too much about where I was going. Or the fact that I hadn't been back since... well, never. I wondered if it was the same, if the people were the same or had the slavers taken all of us. Would it even still be standing after all this time? I wondered, no, I hoped, I hoped against hope that maybe... just maybe, Derrell had found it before me. That he'd be there waiting there and I would finally be able to say that I had a family again.

I knew it was a fool's hope. But even so, perhaps someone there would know something, at least.

As the suns began to fall below the horizon, the Mando slowed and stopped at the top of one of the higher sand dunes. It gave us a wide view of the rest of the plains below, but they were dark brown silhouettes against the setting suns. That was one thing I'd give this blasted planet, the sunsets were spectacular. Nevertheless, I hadn't expected the Mando to stop and admire the view.

"What's the hold up?" I asked him.

"It's getting dark."

"And? We still have at least an hour of daylight left," I said, revving my bike.

He didn't answer me, only switched off his engine and began removing a few supplies. He set the child down gently against a large boulder. It cooed sleepily. He then turned to the dead bush a few feet away from him, broke off a few branches and gathered a few stones.

"We might not find a better place to make camp," he said, arranging the twigs and stones in a pile and giving them a quick blast with the flame thrower on his arm. I tried not to act surprised at that.

I switched off the engine of my bike and poked around in my bag for something to eat. Nothing was very appealing. It was all some sort of dried meat or dried fruit. My stomach was a knot of nerves, anyway. I sighed and simply tried to take a sip of water. It was pleasant and cool. I hadn't realized how dry my throat had gotten, driving over dessert all day. I took another sip and settled down against the bike behind me.

I tried to distract myself by watching the Mandalorian as he tended to the kid. He was so gentle with him, muttering to him about slowing down as he munched on the little tin of food he'd prepared for him. My eyes followed him as he settled against his own bike. He folded his arms across his chest, the helmet still fixed on the child as he ate the last of his meal.

"You're good with him," I said absently.

The helmet turned in my direction but he said nothing, only tightened his arms across his chest.

I took another sip of my water and sighed, turning my eyes up the darkening sky. It was a deep, rich purple, a band of diamonds stretching right across it. Every twinkle was a star, home to thousands of planets and places I'd yet to see. Places I didn't even know existed yet, places I had to get to. I swallowed down the lump in my throat at how suddenly it struck me. This was a monumental task. There was an entire galaxy out there, an endless expanse filled with billions upon billions of people... what made me think I could find one person? It was a needle in a haystack... I shut my eyes and tried to quell my ever more morbid train of thought.

There had to be something out there. It was a shot in the dark, but a shot was better than nothing. I was close to him, I could feel it in my bones.

I opened my eyes once more, not missing how the tin can jerked his gaze away from mine. I smirked. I may have been stumbling around in the dark before, but destiny smelled like metal and blaster residue and it was pulling me towards where I needed to be.

"So what's your story, Mando?" I asked, stretching out and lying back to look up at the sky.

I heard him sigh and I mimicked him.

"Is that all you ever say?"

"What happened to the secrecy?" he groused.

I turned to look at him, the helmet watching me once more.

"Well," I began, turning back to the stars, "I figure you and I are pretty much wrapped up in the whole thing together now."

"I work alone."

I scoffed, "Clearly."

Silence settle between us once more, the only sound was the distant winds over the sand and the occasional pop and snap of the small camp fire. I sat up and crossed my legs, frustrated and dissatisfied with his answer.

"I'll go first then. I'll tell you who I'm looking for, you tell me something. A trade, a deal, so to speak."

"You expect me to trust you after you broke into my ship?" he said.

I chuckled and lay back down, "Fair," I said.

The crackle of flames fluttered around my ears once more. That along with the soft nighttime sky stoked an easy tiredness. My eyes grew heavy and the temptation of sleep after so long without was becoming impossible to deny.

"My brother," I croaked into the silence, "I'm looking for my brother."

He said nothing in return. He didn't need to, it was enough to finally share it with someone. Like the weight on my chest was lifted. I had no idea why it felt so easy to trust this tin can with information that I'd killed for. But something in me, that stupid gut instinct I had was positively screaming in his presence. He was important. I'd never felt closer Derrel than I did now, half asleep by a campfire in the middle of Tatooine.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to the sound of frustrated grunting. Small grunting, the kind of grunting that came from little green monster wizards. I cracked open one eye and groaned against the blaring of the rising suns. The sky was overcast, but bright and the nights chill still sat over the desert. Sitting up stiffly, I squinted my eyes to see the child haphazardly hanging from the pack attached to the seat of my bike.

"Hey," I croaked, standing up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He fell with a huff and I chuckled as he looked up at me with those big endearing eyes. I rustled in my pack and pulled out the small pouch of dried fruit. He reached up with his little claws and gurgled.

"What's the magic word?" I asked.

He dropped his groping hands and tilted his head. His brow furrowed in thought and he tapped his small fingers together before his ears perked up once more. He reached up one hand, eyes meeting mine before muttering a small,

"Patu?"

I laughed and bent down to hand him the pack. He greedily began munching on the contents.

"You know, if you hadn't almost killed me, I could just about eat you up, yes I could," I said, rubbing the soft fuzz of his ears. He gurgled in agreement and I chuckled again, about to tap his tiny little nose, but I was rudely interrupted.

Without a sound, a beskar clad figure swooped down in front of me and picked him up. It startled me to my feet.

"Don't talk to the kid," said the Mando, placing him gently in the small sack on his bike.

"I- I was just giving him some breakfast," I said.

He said nothing, just packed up what little supplies he had and kicked sand over the remnants of our campfire.

I was taken aback by his sudden coldness. I don't know why it came as a surprise, he'd never been particularly warm with me in the first place, but I thought that after last night he might have been slightly less... Mandalorian. I'd offered up the most valuable thing I had, I extended the olive branch and still here he was, callously ignoring me and snatching the kid away as if I would ever want to hurt him. It irked me. Unreasonably so.

"You've a real fucking attitude problem, you know that?" I hissed, fixing my pack back on my bike. Again, he said nothing.

"You wouldn't even know where you were going if it wasn't for me. You know, I'm sticking my neck out even being here, and all you can do is mope about and snap at me for feeding your kid. I'm _sorry_ for trying to meet his basic needs. I shouldn't have even come with you anyway, I mean, you tried to kill me, I shouldn't even be helping you. If anything you owe me-"

"Glade," he said warily, but I continued on my tirade.

"No that's fine, I'll just sit in silence for the rest of the trip. I'll help you out, get you to where you need to go and you can continue to treat me like a fucking chump. Sounds like a real nice-"

Before I could finish my sentence I noticed he had went very, very still. His helmet fixed on me as he took one timid step towards me.

"Don't move," he said and suddenly all thoughts of anger were replaced by a numbness. My hands twitched as I reached for my blaster.

"I said don't move," he repeated, moving closer to me once more.

I froze on the spot and that's when I noticed the small red fleck dancing over my chest. It moved around erratically and all I could do was watch it. I tried to stem my panic, waiting for it to settle, for them to think they had their shot. It's all could think of, even the sound of my breathing filtered out of existence. All I could see was my heaving chest and the small red laser that would mark the end of my life. I held my breath as it froze over my heart.

A beat passed, then another and somewhere in the distance I saw the flash of a rifle and time raced to catch up with itself. I meant to tumble forward, mess up the hunter's line of sight. My muscles flexed instinctively to do so, but I was abruptly winded by the ton of beskar that hurtled into me and knocked me back. The shot sounded over the empty dunes as my back hit the ground, his weight above me stopped me moving any further. For the briefest of moments I couldn't breathe. All I could think about was the fact that the Mandalorian had me pinned.

"Friend of yours?" he asked.

I blamed the force of the fall for my breathlessness. I could only nod.

"Stay down," he said, clambering to his feet once more and setting up his rifle on the nearby bolder. I sat up, but kept my head down and drew my blaster as I took cover beside him.

"You got a visual?" I asked him, my voice a pitch higher than I would have liked. I cleared my throat.

"No," he graveled.

I took three steadying breaths, trying to calm the adrenalin coursing through me. I'd been in this situation a thousand times before, I knew what to do. So why was everything a mess in my head. I shook myself and took another slow breath.

Draw him out, expose him. Hunters were only as good as their cover. I swallowed down the acrid taste in my mouth that I always felt when I remembered one of Karmon's lessons.

Without another thought, I jumped out from behind the bolder and shot blindly to mountains beyond. The shots echoed out and were followed immediately by another hasty boom of the hunter's rifle. I ducked down as the blast ate into the sand beside me.

"Got him," was all the Mando said before he pulled the trigger of his rifle. The shot echoed out over the desert, bouncing off the mountains before disappearing on the eerie wind. He stood up carefully at first, but when no further shots came, his shoulders relaxed. After a moment, he reached out his hand to help me up to my feet. I took it and swallowed when he held my gaze. It was for a second, if even. But then he let go of my hand and climbed onto his bike and I was left standing like an idiot. Why? I hadn't a clue.

Okay, yes I did, that was a lie. For a brief moment there, I wanted him. But that moment was gone. It was the adrenalin, the danger monster going into overdrive. A bad choice that would yield very little in the way of reward. Besides, did they even...

_Enough, Glade._

I cleared my throat and straightened myself out before we once again continued on our journey. I shook off the moment. Honestly, it wasn't as if he was special. If anyone had jumped me like that, I'd feel the same way. It had nothing to do with the way he felt against me, or the way he carried himself, or the way he sounded through the modulator. No, it had just... been a while. Yes, that's what it was. How long had it been? At least a year. I stalled my speeder bike at the realization.

"Shit," I hissed, revving the engine up again. He stopped ahead and turned in his seat to look round.

"I'm fine!" I called and I saw him nod, waiting for me to catch up. I shoved the thought of him to the back of my mind.

That's all it was, I was a little charged. Next stop we made I'd find a stiff drink and a willing dance partner and I would be fine.

No. Because the next stop was Mos Pelgo. It was not the place for that. I had to find out anything I could about Derrel and if I didn't I'd be back to where I started, wondering around in the dark. Bribing my life away to keep one step ahead. That thought sobered me. Any foolish notions of any sort were put on the back burner. So we sped on towards Mos pelgo. The last place I had known true happiness, and the place it was taken away from me.


	4. Chapter 4

We arrived in Mos Pelgo late in the afternoon. It had changed. I don't know why I expected it to be the same. The pale stone buildings stretched along either side of us as we made are way into town, but they were crumbling, shabby replicas of what I remembered. It looked like the whole place might blow away with a strong enough gust of wind. It was smaller too, half of the houses that stretched out to the South were gone, just dust and wooden bones. It looked like something dead. If not for the few inhabitants standing watching us from their doorways, you could've mistaken it for a ghost town. What hurt more was the vague familiarity of it. The furrowed brows against the sun, the dark circles under their eyes, the ash and dirt on their faces from the mines. Some of them I recognized, and I dared to let hope swell in my chest.

I tried not to think about running up and down this dirt path with my brothers and their friends. I tried not to think about one their mothers shouting at us as we kicked a ball too close to her window. All the scraped knees and feral games blew away on the dust.

"There a cantina nearby?" Mando asked, as he hopped off his speeder and nestled the kid in the satchel that hung at his waist.

His voice pulled me back to the present. I cleared my throat and nodded in its direction ahead.

"Uh, yeah, end of the road." I pointed.

He seemed to hesitate, patting the kid absently on the head as he babbled quietly to himself in his portable hammock.

"You alright?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah," I said, too quickly

He hesitated again and I shifted under his gaze. He had a way of making me feel incredibly vulnerable. I ran a hand through my hair and fixed a smile to my face.

"Meet you back here in an hour?" I said.

He nodded and I took my leave. I wasn't about to stand there for a moment longer. I wondered just how much he was able to read off me. Did he know all my thoughts? Just like he knew I was watching him in the arena, like he knew how scared I was back on his ship... It made me uneasy.

But I swallowed it down and kept my head high as I walked towards one of the houses at the end of the street. Three before the end, with a small porch and a rocking chair.  
The wire where my mother hung her washing was still there, and the chair where my father sat in the evenings bobbed slightly in the wind. I let out a shaky breath as I made my way up the two steps to the door. The wooden porch groaned under my weight but I lifted quivering hand to the door all the same. It was a slab of wood I knew so well. The notch below the handle, faded now as it was, was from the day we had made our own sling shot. We didn't know how powerful that silly thing would be. Spirits, mother could have killed us when she saw the gash we made in her front door.

I knocked three times. It even sounded the same. I half expected my older brothers voice to call out "who goes there!" in his best pirate impersonation. My hand balled into a fist as I remembered the sick sound his body made when he hit the floor of Karmon's ship. Too heavy, too hard a drop on too hard a floor. The way his mouth hung open and how he was no longer here. Fear sadness and rage burned into a twisted snare in my gut. He had to die. That bastard had to burn.

I let out a long sigh, trying and failing to stop the tear spilling down my cheek. I wiped it away furiously, straightened my posture and knocked again. I listened for any noise from within but it was silent. No rustling, no voices, only the sound of the wind whistling though the paneless windows. My hand was still shaking as I pushed down on the door handle. It was stiff and rusted, but it gave way. I closed my eyes as I opened the door, unsure if this was the right thing or not.

My childhood home sat before me, covered in a layer of ash, stripped of anything that made it a home. Just another shell. Glass crunched under my boots as I crossed the threshold, plates lay broken on the floor- the good ones, ones my mother saved for birthdays or a solstice. I picked up a shard and stared at it, my vision going watery. The curtains on the windows were tattered and torn, the seats at the table were overturned and broken. Nothing but the shape of the walls was the same. In my mind I could see the curtains whole, see the table set with a meagre feast. I could remember the feeling of coming home, breathless and hungry. I could remember my father telling us stories about the loth cats that ran around the town. They all had names- Panda, Trickster and Jump.

I couldn't do this.

I slumped down on the floor, not caring that the glass dug into my knees. I cradled the broken plate close to my chest and let silent sobs rack my body. Some forgotten feeling lurched up in my chest. The feeling that made you want to run home from school, to cling onto your mother and not let go. I wanted to feel her reassuring hug and the quick kiss she'd give me on my crown.

"There now, enough of this. You're alright," she'd say.

But she wasn't here and neither was my father, or my brother. They were gone and I'd never get them back... But Derrel wasn't. He was out there somewhere and he felt just as alone and empty as I did. I tried to stand again, wiping the tears off my cheeks, sniffing away the sobs. I was my mother's daughter. She was always so strong. Holding it together, whatever befell us, she never flinched. I had to be strong like her. For the rest of them; for Derrel. I carefully put the shard into my pocket and wiped away the rest of my tears, fanning my face to stop the redness and puffy eyes. I doubted it worked, but I couldn't bare the thought of being seen crying.

I let out a shaky breath, gathering my wits once more. No one lived here. No one had for a while, but that didn't mean the trail was dead. I'd head to the cantina, ask some questions and if nothing came up, well, I'd just have to turn my mind to a different venture. I'd ran long enough. He knew where I was. He could come and get me.

The rumbling beneath my feet drew me away from my plotting. It was a strange feeling, like an earthquake but it seemed to be getting closer. Soon enough the whole house began to shake and I understood now why everything was smashed. What little crockery remained on the shelves, fell to the floor as the rumbling thundered by outside. I ran out onto the porch once more to see where it was coming from. I did not expect to see what looked like a giant lizard, swimming through the sand. As quickly as it came however, it was gone once more. The rumbling settled and the timid townspeople emerged from their homes.

I looked across to the cantina to see Mando standing stiff. Clearly just as disturbed as I was about the giant sand snake. The child waved eagerly at me from behind him. I slowly raised a hand and waved back, unsure what to do next. Until I noticed the figure beside Mando. A familiar figure, despite his now grey hair.

"Cobb..." I whispered, taking a heavy step towards them, almost stumbling down the steps.

I called out his name again, drawing his attention. I watched his brow furrow as I came closer. But when I through off my hood, his eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped as recognition dawned on him.

"Glade Foli," he whispered.

I laughed and nodded and all at once he encompassed me in a bear hug.

"Dank Farrik! Little Gladioli," He laughed into my hair.

I hugged him tighter and shut my eyes, the feeling of being held threatening tears once more. This was the one thing that felt like coming home. Cobb Vanth. He was my father's best friend, always there. He would always be the one to get us off the hook. That or get us into trouble in the first place.

"Let me get a look at you," he pulled back from the hug. "Little Gladioli all grown up," he sighed, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

"And you've gotten old," I said, taking another step back and fixing a smile firmly on my face. If I didn't I was sure to cry.

He laughed once more, shaking his head as his look fell somber.

"I'm sorry I couldn't-"

"I know," I cut him off. I knew what he was going to say and he didn't have to say it.

"I thought about you all, everyday. Not a moment went by I didn't wish..." He stopped and scoffed, shaking his head with his hands on his hips.

I reached out and squeezed his wrist. I wished he would stop looking at me like that, like I was a ghost.

"You look just like your mother," he said.

The weight of his words was unexpected and I didn't miss the slightest look of yearning that flashed in his eyes when I met them. I smiled stiffly, pretending for both our sakes that I hadn't noticed it. He turned then to Mando, who had watched the reunion in silence, but his stance was still tense and I heard the leather of his gloves as he flexed his hands impatiently.

"Maybe we can work something out," Cobb said, turning back into the cantina. Mando passed me a glance, before following him.

"So what exactly was that thing?" Mando said, sitting down in the chair opposite Cobb. I settled myself against the wall by the window. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't good and I knew it would have to be dealt with sooner rather than later. But I was just about ready to burst with questions for Cobb. Had Derrel been come back? Did he know where he was, how I could find him? So many mindless questions with slim hope of any positive answer. Truth be told, I was afraid to ask them.

"Its called a Krayt Dragon," he said, passing me a small glass of spotchka.

I scoffed, "They're just kids stories." We necked the shots at the same time.

He arched his brow, "I assure you, this ain't no kids story, that thing has been terrorizing this place long before Mos Pelgo even existed."

"I think I'd remember a giant sand worm," I said.

Cobb shrugged and poured himself another glass of spotchka, offering me another too. I took it and clinked my glass against his.

"Cut to the chase, Vanth," Mando sighed.

Cobb eyed him and flashed him his charming smile, "You help me take out the krayt dragon, I'll give you the armor."

I was startled by quickly Mando agreed to the deal. Even as it became clear that it wouldn't just be a case of blasting it from the Razor Crest. The plan then was set in motion. We'd scout out the den of the krayt dragon and see if there was anyway to kill it. Simple. Wasn't it?

I went along with them, keeping my questions trapped tightly in my throat, anxiety all but overcoming me any time I attempted to ask them. Every moment of silence my mind screamed to broach the subject with Cobb, just ask him quickly, slip it into conversation, anything to get the ball rolling. But then I'd stop myself, or the conversation would change or we'd be interrupted by Tusken raiders.

That through a spanner in the works.

We sat around the camp fire with them. The suns had long set and the deep night sky blanketed everything. The mountains and dunes in the distance were rolling shadows along the horizon. I tried to focus on them, not the ever knotting dread in my gut.

What if he had no answers? Really, what if I asked my questions and the trail was dead? Was I ready to stop? Was I prepared to give up the chase? Turn from defense to offence?

I let my head fall back against the bolder behind me and shut my eyes. I focused instead of the crackling of the large camp fire, and the sounds of Mando conversing easily with the Tuskens. A heavy thump on my shoulder drew me back from the edge of sleep and when my eyes shot open I was faced with the grotesque mask of one of the raiders. I shirked away from him, some childhood instinct warning me of an enemy.

He seemed bashful for a moment, his head turning to look at his feet before he offered me a small round shell. He muttered something in Tusken, the gutteral sounds softer than most, before I slowly reached out and took the shell from him. I tried to hide my grimace at the stench of it. I cleared my throat and tried to smile.

"Thank you..." I said.

That seemed to please him, as he spoke again with more animated gestures. He took himself back to his corner of the campfire, still muttering in his strange language. I looked over to where Cobb sat with the Mandalorian.

"What is it?" I whispered.

Cobb shrugged, as he too was offered one. He sniffed it and sneered.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he said loudly. Tactful as ever.

"You drink it," said Mando.

Cobb and I shared an uneasy glance. The longer we left it, the more adamant the raiders became. I looked back at the Mandalorian. He nodded to me and I bit my lip. Something in my stomach told me I wouldn't keep this down.

"Do you want their help?" he said to Cobb.

He seemed to be putting up more of a fight.

I looked back down at the lumpy, yellowish grey liquid that sat in the shell and sighed. It wasn't like me to turn down a drink. I ignored the ever more raucous argument to my left and prepared myself for the taste.

"Fuck it," I said and in one gulp, I necked the foul smelling broth.

I wish I could say it tasted better than it looked. It was acrid and syrupy at the same time. Like something that had gone bad and had been left in the sun to turn to soup. I gagged, and brought a hand up to my mouth to stop myself from spitting it out. My Tusken friend at the fire was watching me earnestly and I didn't want to offend.

I brought my mouth away and swallowed hard, trying my best to get the awful taste off my tongue. I nodded and passed him a weak thumbs up.

"It's good," I croaked. He seemed pleased by that at least.

The argument beside me was escalating. Cobb was refusing to drink the shell water, the Tusken was offended and Mando was doing his best to placate them both. I rolled my eyes and looked back to my drink. A small weight at my side then drew my attention. It was the kid. He looked up at me and babbled softly. Reaching one hand up like he had done before, he tilted his head in silent question.

It made me smile.

"You wouldn't like it, little guy. Trust me."

"Patu," came his response, his hand reaching up further.

I chuckled and looked from him to cup, then back to him. His brow furrowed insistently.

"You can have a sip, but I'm telling you now, you're not gonna like it."

It was then that the roaring blast of a flame thrower shot out over the camp. It startled the cup from my hand as I pulled the child close to my chest.

"If we fight amongst ourselves, that monster will kill us all."

The Mandalorian stood tall, the smoke still filtering from the flame thrower. It had silenced the argument, Cobb and the Tusken were looking especially more sheepish than they had been.

Silence descended on the camp then. Cobb stalked off, closer to the edge steep hill that we sat on. I contemplated going over to him then. Open up the whole can of worms about Derrel and Karmon. I would have, I _should_ have, but I didn't. There was still that dread that gripped my spine every time I thought about it. Here it was, my opportunity to find him and I couldn't take it.

The heavy sound of Mando settling down opposite me drew my thoughts back. The helmet seemed to be fixed on me and I squirmed under its gaze. Then I remembered the small green lizard baby cradled in my arms. I loosened my grip on him. He cooed and tilted his head, his eyes all heavy with sleep. I immediately relinquished him and let him waddle back towards the Mandalorian.

"Sorry," I said, crossing my arms over my chest to keep away the chill.

The child settled beside Mando, snuggling into the gap under his arm. He didn't say anything, the helmet simply looking out over the camp fire to the horizon beyond. I shuffled down the rock at my back and shut my eyes, willing tiredness to overtake the thoughts bouncing around my head. No such luck. They built up into a raucous crescendo, all the doubts, the anxieties blaring behind my eyes.

"You know Vanth," It wasn't a question.

I opened my eyes at the sound of his modulated voice and turned to face him. Straightening my back as I cleared my throat.

"Yeah. Long time ago," I said.

His helmet was still fixed on me, the only sign that he wasn't a statue was the rise and fall of his shoulders.

"You said you were looking for your brother."

Again, it was not a question. I shifted again under his scrutinizing glare, or what I imagined it would be. If anything, the helmet was more intimidating than a face.

"I am," I replied.

"You haven't brought it up to Cobb."

"Haven't had much opportunity."

"You've had ample opportunity."

I shut my mouth and turned away. _Bastard._ How did he see through me so easily? I wasn't that obvious, surely. I prided myself on being somewhat of an enigma to most people. And yet here he had, within the space of two sentences, laid out my most immediate fear.

I huffed, "How 'bout you let me worry about it."

He sighed and folded his arms, his exasperation leaping off his movements. He let the silence hang in the air as he turned his gaze back out to the horizon.

"Might not get another chance," he said simply, and he was right.

We'd face that thing tomorrow, and it wouldn't take a fortune teller to see that it wouldn't just be a walk in the park. It was a giant sand dragon, it had eaten whole Banthas in one bite. Spirits, it nearly uprooted a whole town just by crawling through it. It dawned on me then, that dying was a very real possibility. I craned my neck to see where Cobb was standing away from the fire. He was a lonely silhouette against the bright night sky. I picked at the skin on my thumb and sighed.

"You'll regret it if you don't," came Mando's sardonic encouragement.

"I said to let me worry about it," I snapped.

He shrugged and settled in closer to the kid, his part in my decision over. I ran a hand through my hair and muttered a curse under my breath before clambering to my feet.

It was darker where he stood, but it made the desert sky all the clearer. The band of diamonds stretched out over it once more, the moon in the east like a crystal paint stroke.

"You remember what your mother used to call a crescent moon?" he startled me when he spoke, I didn't think he'd heard me. I stood closer to him, shaking my head. Ignoring the prick of sadness at the mention of my mother. His voice was so much softer than it had been. He turned to face me with a gentle smile.

"An angel's finger nail," he said.

I smiled at the strangely apt metaphor.

"Gotta say, I don't really remember her waxing poetic," I said.

He watched me, still with that smile on his face. The crow's feet around his eyes became more pronounced, but they didn't harshen his features.

"She was always reading something or other, all these books that I'd never a hope of understanding. You're father did, or at least pretended to, spirits know he wasn't much smarter than I was, but Dilah, she could've done anything, been anyone. Always had something sharp to say, could cut you to the bone in less than five syllables." he hesitated, his smile falling into something quieter.

I scoffed, "I remember. She'd only have to look at me and I knew I was in trouble."

"She was... quite the woman," he whispered.

A confession.

"You loved her," I said.

He turned to face me then, not yet meeting my eyes.

"I never told her. Never told anyone," he sighed, "I did love her, but your father was like a brother to me I..." His words tapered off as he met my eyes again. "You really are just like her," he said, barely.

His words were heavy but his gaze was heavier and I anticipated the lean in before he could follow through. I put my hand on his chest and turned my eyes to the ground. He laughed bitterly and I looked up as he shook his head.

"I'm stepping on someone's toes here, aren't I?

He glanced quickly back to the campfire and I followed his gaze more precisely to where the Mandalorian sat.

"No!" I balked, "No, that's not it at all, I barely know the guy. It's just..." I couldn't think of why I couldn't kiss him. Don't get me wrong, I would have, he'd aged like a fine wine, but something about the idea felt like a betrayal, exploitive.

"No, I shouldn't have, it was inappropriate," he said with his soft smile once more. A heavy silence fell around us. Something like a bramble crept in between us and if one of us didn't cut it, then there would be no way around it.

"I'm looking for Derrel," I blurted out, and just like that the bramble fell away.

His brow furrowed slightly at the mention of his name and fear coiled in my gut.

"You're looking for him?" he asked. He seemed troubled by that and my palms began to sweat.

"Yes, why?"

"I thought he would have... Glade, he came by here a year or two back."

Why that made my stomach drop I didn't know, but it felt like the worst news in the world, but at the same time... it was good? I don't know, I couldn't process it. It was as if I could reach out a hand and he'd be there, I was so close and yet, the worried look on Cobb's face spoke volumes.

"He was here? I mean, in Mos Pelgo? He came back?" I stuttered.

Cobb nodded, "He came into town, visited the old house and left."

"Are you sure- I mean are you sure it was him?" I picked at the skin on my thumb.

He nodded again, "It was him, though he's not Derrel Foli anymore. Was adopted by some good people and was working as a cargo man out of Nevarro. You didn't know?"

I stumbled back, something like nausea lurching up my throat. He steadied me by my shoulders, but the world around me had blurred beyond all recognition.

Nevarro. He lived on Nevarro... He was working as a cargo man, he was... Normal.

"Glade, this is a good thing, no?" Cobb's voice brought me back and I shook my head to clear my mind entirely.

"Yes, of course it is," I laughed, but something in it felt forced. I tried to pin point why this wasn't making me jump for joy, why in my gut did this feel like a heartbreak.

"I have to see him," I muttered.

"Well sure! He's your brother," Cobb agreed.

I ignored my gut and swallowed down the sour feeling, letting relief overcome me. He was alive, he was safe and he was living his life. What more could I want for him? I shook my head and laughed again, encompassing Cobb in a hug.

Just like that, my search was over. I had a location, I even had his job title. If I'd known that coming home was all it took, I would have done it years ago.

Wouldn't I?

* * *

The next day, we were making our way back to the Krayt Dragon's lair, population of Mos Pelgo in tow. I don't know how they managed to convince the town to work with the Tuskens, even when I was a child I remembered the fear and the distrust.   
But here we were, watching nervously from the ridge above the den, as a Tusken listened for any sign of movement. I squinted up at the high suns above, hating how it's unrelenting heat felt on my scalp. I felt trapped under it, like I always had. I hated Tatooine. I hated the heat, I hated how the sand shifted under your feet. I hated being stuck here when I knew where Derrel was. I hissed a curse when I picked at a particularly deep hangnail. 

"Nervous?" Mando said beside me. 

I looked up at him, the sun beaming off his beskar so much that it made my eyes sting. 

I scoffed, "Just a tad, you know, facing down a dragon is just slightly out of my comfort zone." I hesitated, "Why, aren't you?" 

"No," he said flatly. 

I sighed and shook my head, "You know the tall, dark and brooding act gets old." 

He looked back at me, the helmet's gaze staying there longer than was comfortable. 

"You know your way around a rifle?" he asked before he turned to lift a decrepit looking blaster rifle off his speeder bike. He tossed it to me and I caught it, barely. 

"Yeah, I mean, I have a blaster, what do you--" 

"The rocks along the ridge," he said, pointing behind me to the wide strip of boulders that sat above the valley. A good vantage point for long range. But just how much damage the rickety rifle in my hands would do, was another story. 

"You want me to what, snipe it?" I asked derisively, "Mando, did you see the size of that thing?" 

"We just need to draw it out," he said before walking off towards Cobb further down towards the valley. 

I scoffed and muttered about his bossiness under my breath, but obediently took up my spot along the top of the ridge. The heat was diabolical. There was absolutely no shade to speak of and to top it all off, the sun was almost blinding my line of sight. 

"Shit," I hissed out, trying to move out of its way, but it was all encompassing. "Mando this isn't going to--" I cut myself off and fell onto my stomach to take aim as the krayt dragon eased it's way out of its den. 

The towns people and the tuskens were all firing on it together, but it only seemed to piss it off. My shots were hitting, but they couldn't have been anything more than a pin prick to that thing. It needed to come out further, just enough so that the charges could be set. Like any best laid plans however, this went disastrously array. 

I think the exact moment it went wrong was when the charges exploded. It retreated and the valley fell silent. It felt like a win, some of the townsfolk even cheered. But _ah_ , there was that old instinct whistling up the back of my neck. Something was about to happen, and by the rumbling beneath my feet I doubted it was anything good. The world seemed to stand still as the rumbling built up to its calamitous finish. 

The krayt dragon burst through the rock and sand beside me, sending me tumbling back with the force of it. I dropped my blaster rifle amidst the rubble as It rained down its vomit on the people below. I shirked away from watching what it did to them, their cries of pain were enough.

I scrambled to try and find my rifle but it was lost, I was helpless and the dragon was still scalding people to death below. I had to do something, so, I did the next best thing. I grabbed the largest rock I could handle, took aim and through it full pelt at the dragon. It pinged it straight in its soulless eye and whilst my plan had worked in that it had given the townspeople a chance at escape, its attention was now directly focused on me. It turned towards me and reared its giant body, blanking out the piercing sun above me. I tried to turn and run, but the sand and rubble tripped me. I shut my eyes and prepared myself for the burn. Trying to think of good things but all I could think of was the crushing fear in my chest. 

Then came the crushing weight that barreled into me. I shrieked and tried to register what had happened, but all I could tell was that I was now tumbling down the sand dune, wrapped in the arms of someone wearing beskar. And it was not Cobb. We both landed at the bottom with a huff. Unfortunately, his beskar did not make for a soft landing pad.

"Fuck!" I hissed, pushing myself up by my arms and ignoring the way my ribs screamed in protest. 

"What were you doing?" he growled. 

"What was I doing?" I protested, pulling myself up to my feet, "What were you doing? I think you broke my fucking ribs!" 

He pulled himself up and towered over me, his chest heaving as if he wanted to shout but he stopped himself. Instead he glanced behind me, then back to the krayt dragon above. He grabbed my arm and shoved me towards the rest of the towns people, out of the valley. 

"Look after the kid," he said. 

"What?" I wheezed, "What are you doing?" 

"I don't know but wish me luck," he said before giving me another shove. I shared a final glance with him before he snapped at me once more. 

"Go!" 

I nodded slowly and sprinted back up the sand dune to safety. Cobb was up there with the rest of the survivors watching on as the Mandalorian did the unthinkable. The Bantha that stood nonchalantly through the whole thing was stacked to the teeth with explosives, and Mando had the charge strapped to his belt. As the krayt dragon tumbled its way down the dune towards him, he grabbed hold of the bantha. 

"Don't do it, Mando," I whispered. 

The dragon hurtled itself closer and closer and before I could even shout in protest it had swallowed him and the bantha whole. I stumbled back a pace, not quite believing what I was seeing, not quite processing the feeling that lurched up my chest either. As the dragon disappeared back into the sand, the valley fell deathly silent. I swallowed down nausea that had lurched up my throat and took a step forward. Surely that wasn't the end? What happened to that gut feeling I had about him? This couldn't be where it lead, this couldn't be it... 

It wasn't.

From out of the silence, the dragon roared to the surface one final time. From out of its nightmarish jaws, the Mandolarian jetted out, hit the button on the charges and blew the krayt dragon half way to hell. The force of the explosion knocked me off my feet once more and I cursed at the pain in my lungs, but it turned into a laugh as I watched Mando land gracefully beside the corpse. 

I clambered to my feet and cheered on with the people, I smiled with Cobb and whooped with the Tuskens and I was happy. It shocked me. I almost didn't recognize it, but that's what it was. It came so fast, and so suddenly that my face nearly ached from smiling. It grew even more as the Mandalorian approached us.

It was not in my nature to hug, nor was it my nature to fight my instinct, but never before have I more ardently fought off the urge to wrap my arms around someone. I shut out the idea, for whatever brief moment it was there and instead my hands worked at the skin on my thumb. He walked past me without a second glance and knelt down to the kid. 

I bit my tongue and shook my head. I was just relieved, that's all. Just wanted to share a moment of triumph with him. There was nothing deeper than that. I didn't know him, nor did I particularly want to hug him, now that I thought about it. _Yes, rationalize it, Glade. Explain it all away._

I turned once more to Cobb with a wide smile, hoping he hadn't noticed my lapse in control. But of course he was watching me, with that knowing crooked smile. 

"What?" I asked innocently. 

He simply chuckled and shook his head before sidling up beside me. 

"And here I thought it was his toes I had to worry about stepping on," 

I scoffed, "Cobb Vanth, you could not be further off the mark." 

He tilted his head towards me, his eyebrow quirked. He looked me up and down and smiled. 

"Best be careful, Gladioli," was all he said before he sauntered off to join the clean up, leaving me alone to stare dumbly at the sand dunes.

And no, I was _not_ blushing. 


	5. Chapter 5

I couldn't help but feel like the whole thing had been... anticlimactic. Yes, I had almost died, and Mando had almost died and, well... It wasn't anticlimactic, but it was something like it. Because here we were, the same day, traversing over the plains of Tatooine once more, heading back to the city. As though none of it had happened. 

It was jarring. How unfazed he was by what was truly one of the most dramatic situations I'd ever found myself in. Was this common for him? Did he simply throw himself from one disaster to another? Why? All he got out of the whole galivant was a pile of crummy looking armor. Don't get me wrong, I'd been through my fair share of life or death situations, but none quite as grand as facing down a dragon. Mine were more along the lines of sneaking out of the cantina in time, taking out a bunch of Karmon's guys who'd dared to get to close. Distant kind of life or deaths. 

And now we were back to not speaking, travelling as we had been a few days before as though nothing had happened.

Things had happened. I'd found out that Derrel was alive and living on Nevarro. That was the thought at the forefront of my mind as we raced over the dunes on the speeder bikes. I was barely paying attention to what was in front of me. I couldn't work out why the thought of knowing where he was terrified me. Like I couldn't trust it, it was too good to be true, something bad had to come and ruin this.

For ten years I'd been searching for him. Making my stupid little enquiries, staying in the shadows, keeping myself in the dark. It was what I was used to. I couldn't risk _really_ looking for him. I was being hunted, I had to keep myself safe first. Keeping myself in the dark was the best form of defense. I'd have been dead along time ago if not.

So what had changed? 

My eyes focused on the Mandalorian. His speeder bike was a few yards ahead of mine. Why had I so blithely followed him? It was so completely against the survival instinct that I relied on, that I couldn't quite believe I'd done it. Sure, I'd had contacts in the past; people I'd go to for weapons, information, a free ride. But I'd never wanted to stay with them. That's what frightened me. I wanted to go with the Mandalorian, not because I had to. I could easily make my own way to Nevarro, it'd probably be safer too, let's face it, he wasn't exactly inconspicuous. But I was choosing to stay with him for no other reason than I _wanted_ to. I couldn't remember the last time that happened. 

I was so deep in my own thoughts that I barely registered his speeder suddenly veer and crash. I held my breath and pulled on the breaks but it was too late, my bike slammed into the wreckage and launched me into the air. I hit the dirt with a thud, my ears ringing and the air was knocked completely from my lungs. I tried to roll over and push myself up but flopped back down when pain shot through my head. I tried to curse but my throat was filled with dust. 

Once the ringing in my ears had subsided, I heard the distant blaring of blasters. Then the very loud blaring of blasters. In fact, one of the red beams missed me by mere inches. I sat upright, possible concussion be damned. Scrambling to my feet I grabbed my blaster and fired it at the blurred figure ahead of me. It fell limply and I turned to the sound behind me. I could make out the Mandalorian and three other figures. He grappled with one as the others fired at him but the beams simply pinged off his beskar as he snapped his assailant's neck. With terrifying efficiency he turned and shot the other to his left. I aimed and fired and took out the last one and we shared a quick nod. I slouched in relief and rubbed my eyes as my vision was slowly beginning to clear. When I brought my hand away, however, Mando had his hands up in surrender, his blaster discarded at his feet. 

"Easy," he said hoarsely. 

It was then I spun on my feet to see the Jawa behind me. He shouted hysterically in his strange language, tightening his grip on the kid and pointing the small blade ever closer to his neck. The kid gurgled, his small brow furrowing in concern. Immediately I had my blaster aimed at the Jawa, much to his and Mando's protests. 

"Put it down," he said behind me. I didn't. 

"I have the shot," I said through my teeth. 

The Jawa continued to screech, backing away with the blade still brandished. 

"Glade, just put it down," he said again. I could hear his breathing steadying behind me. 

"If you put one mark on him there won the be anywhere you can hide from me." He said, either to me or the Jawa, or both.

It didn't matter, his kid was in danger. He'd shoot me just as soon as the one brandishing the knife.

I took three steadying breaths, ignoring how the Jawa still threatened the kid, ignoring how Mando was raising his voice. If he was going to kill him, he would have already. The Jawa grew more and more frantic the longer I held the gun up towards him, swearing that he'd do it, if I didn't put that blaster down, he'd do it. The kid watched me carefully and for a moment, it was as if only we existed. His big brown eyes stared at me, and I knew then that I had to take the shot. My finger squeezed the trigger, the shot rang out and the Jawa fell. 

I dropped the gun to my side as the kid rolled to the ground with a small whine. The desert wind howled out over the new silence. Its calming breaths were soothing against the heat and the pain and the tension in the air.

"What the hell was that," Mando shouted, storming past me, deliberately knocking me with his shoulder. It sent a new wave of pain through my head. It was then that I felt something warm running down my face. I felt my temple and flinched when it throbbed, my fingers now covered in blood. 

"Shit," I hissed, slumping down by the boulder beside me. 

The Mandalorian scooped up the kid who ran towards him with his little outstretched hands. He examined him carefully for any signs of injury, his fingers lifting up his chin and checking behind his ears. Once he was satisfied, his shoulders tensed and he spun back to face me. 

"Don't do that again," he said, with an accusatory finger. 

I looked up at him, one eye shutting against the pain and the sun, "I told you, I had the shot." 

"You could've hurt the kid," he said, stalking off to the ruins of his speeder bikes.

I furrowed my brow and tried to stem the anger that bubbled up in my gut. The ingrate.

"I took the shot because I had to. What were you doing?" 

"I had it under control." 

"Yeah, looked like it," I scoffed.

I heard him sigh through the modulator as he poked through what little supplies that survived the crash. His sullenness irked me. More so than the sun blasting down on my bleeding head. I'd saved the kid hadn't I? What had he got to be so fucking grumpy about? I cursed him silently, throwing him a less than polite gesture behind his back.

Groaning at the ever sharpening pain behind my eyes, I pushed myself up to stand. Looking at the ruins of my own bike, it was a wreck. The body was bent and the axel had flown off in the impact. There was no fixing it, not with just the screw driver and solder I kept in my pack. I shielded my eyes from the sun and looked out to the wide empty horizon beyond. The heat in the air rippled like the surface of a lake, its oppressive weight forcing me back down to the ground. My head felt heavy and light all at once, and queasiness settled at the back of my throat. I blindly searched my pack for my flask but I couldn't find it, gods know where it had got to it the midst of it all. My mouth was like sand paper, but I couldn't find the energy to look properly. So, resigned myself to my headache and shut my eyes against the blinding sun. That was until I heard the rustling of armor in front of me.

I cracked open one eye and he was crouched down in front of me, offering up his own flask. I hesitated before taking it, greedily gulping down the water. 

"Your head," he said. 

I passed him back his flask and half smiled. My movements felt lazy and forced. 

"I'll be fine," I croaked. 

He sighed and shook his.

"That all you ever say?" I chuckled hoarsely.

He didn't answer, but he reached down into a small case and brought out some gauze, clear liquid and a bandage. He held out a gloved hand to steady my face and instinctively I shirked away. He backed away slightly, but still kept his hand hovering between us. 

"I'll go easy," he said, his voice softer than I remembered. I gave a quick nod, bracing myself for the sting. He dabbed at it lightly with some of the liquid and I hissed at the needles that shot into my eyes. 

He continued then to gently push the gauze against my head before he wrapped it in the bandage. It surprised me how easily he seemed to patch me up. Probably came with the Mandalorian territory.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd let someone this close. If he hadn't been wearing that fucking helmet, I'd probably feel his breath on my face. If he wasn't wearing the helmet... for the first time since knowing him, the helmet seemed unnatural. Up until that point it had just been a part of him, as much as the hair on my head. But in that moment, I wondered what he looked like. How old was he? What was his name? What was his favourite colour? What did he like to eat? Did he like art? Did he read poems? Where was he from? Had he any friends? Had he ever been in love? How many people had he killed? What sort of music did he like? 

These staples in my mind that made a person whole, that made them truly known. I didn't know any of them. And yet his hands, shielded as they were by his gloves, felt safe. Like he had done this a thousand times in a thousand different lifetimes. I felt like I knew him, and yet I hadn't the faintest idea who he was. I swallowed hard as he finally leaned back to examine his work. The imperceptible nod he gave before getting back to the wreckage made my heart swell with something so unrecognizable that it startled me to my feet. 

"You should rest up a bit," was all he said.

I didn't turn to face him "I'm fine," I said, but I hadn't meant it to sound so harsh. 

I hazarded a glance back to find him watching me. He was tying a few of his belongings to his pulse rifle, looking away with one final tug of a knot. I felt the heat in my cheeks before I had a chance to look away. It wasn't like me to blush. I cleared my throat and looked nonchalant. 

And so off we went, speederless into the yellow horizon. He seemed to carry himself with such ease, I wondered how with all that armour. He carried his belongings over his shoulder, balanced seamlessly on his rifle, like one of those old milk maids you hear about in songs. One step in front of the other, almost effortless but for the heavy sound his footprints made in the sand. It was a wonder he didn't pass out. 

I myself struggled a little more. For one: it was like a fucking oven in the plains, and being a native gave me no relief or knowledge on how to quell it. It was too hot. The reason why we didn't venture outside our town. We simply were taught that there was no surviving the plains. You ventured too far out and you were a goner. And yet here I was, huffing and puffing and stumbling behind the insufferable walking toaster. 

One foot in front of the other. That's what I told myself. Keep breathing. Even if every breath felt like a fire down my throat, keep breathing. It was all in your head. Keep going, he was coping alright, what was wrong with you? 

His steadiness riled me. The child, as if he knew, peered round in his sack now and again to smile at me. I scowled in return. Gods help his bright smile, but he only added to the Mandalorian's smug resilience. He had to feel this. He wasn't super human, he had to have a weakness. I'd grown up on this planet, i knew its harshness, I knew this heat... 

"Alright, enough." I panted. 

It was late into day two of trekking through this wasteland and I had had just about enough. He turned slowly to look at me, not dropping his firm posture, not moving the rifle from his shoulders. I glared at him from where I stood, hunched over and exhausted. I could feel the bridge of my nose and cheeks burning, roasted from the heavy sun. The dry stinging as I crinkled my nose against the reflection of his armor was enough to draw me to a halt. 

"I can't do this," I groused, my hands flying to the place where my flask should be. They groped at the empty space on my hip. He once again offered up his. 

I snatched it off him without a second thought, I thought I might die if I didn't have a sip of water. I took one gulp and held in my mouth, savouring the way it washed away the dust. I swallowed it and passed it back to him. 

"You not thirsty?" I panted, as he pocketed his flask once more. 

"Haven't had the chance.' 

I scoffed, "You mean you really never take that off?" 

There was a moment he seemed to hesitate, the line of his helmet drifted to the ground. 

"No," he muttered, before turning back to the horizon. 

I followed, though not without letting out several colourful curses before doing so. 

"We'll be back before nightfall," he supplied, not turning round. 

Before nightfall wasn't so bad, had we not been travelling in the blistering heat for nearly two days. Back before nightfall, may as well have been in two weeks time. Still I soldiered on, and as the desert sky faded from blue to pink, I began to make out the busy lights of the city beyond.

And true to his word, we were back within its walls by the time the sky fell to purple. I tugged my hood down over my face when we entered the cantina, a vain attempt to hide my identity. Karmon had already sent one goon after me, I wouldn't doubt that my location was plastered all over his comms. There was a big bounty on my head, for anyone else stupid enough to try and take it. The hood was a comfort thing at this point, still, it was better than nothing. Maybe I could understand the Mandalorian helmet thing. I watched him calmly make his way across the cantina, back straight, head held high. He wasn't afraid to be seen. He was indestructible, unknowable. I wondered if he'd let me borrow Vanth's armor... For security purposes of course. I slouched down in a seat nearest to the bar and signaled to the barkeep to pour me a drink.

"A large one," I rasped, my throat still dry from our arid journey.

Mando was speaking quietly to the mechanic. She spoke to him in her loud animated way, unafraid of being known. She didn't wear a mask, or armor, not even a hood. Even if I couldn't make out her words, her expression spoke freely. She radiated a child-like openness and I tried to not be envious of her for it. I liked it. It was refreshing. Maybe that's why Mando trusted her.

I nodded in thanks to the bar keep and through down my pay before making my way over, drink in hand. I only caught the end of their conversation.

"Hah! Idiot's array! Pay up Thorax."

"I thought you said he was on a hot streak?" he groused.

"Quit your crying, you'll rust." she said as she gathered up her credits and her cards. I smirked at her quip.

I took a sip of my drink, "Didn't pin you for a gambler, Mando."

He looked down at me with that same exasperated motion that I was starting to gather as "silent vexation."

"So you managed to stick him, eh? Can't say I'd do the same," she chirped.

I found myself smiling at her chipper form. It was a rare quality.

"Just barely, I should think," I replied with a wink.

Mando sighed to my left and adjusted the weight of his packs on his shoulders.

"The contact?" he asked.

Thorax muttered something to the mechanic once more and she translated easily.

"He says the contact will rendezvous at the hanger. They'll tell you where to find some Mandalorians."

I frowned at that. So that's what he was doing all the way in Mos Pelgo. Looking for his own kind? The loneliness of his existence punched me in the gut. Of course he was lonely. Let's face it, he wouldn't know a well rounded conversation if it crawled up his leg. He was sullen, brusque, down right rude on occasion. I put it down to it being part of his act but no. What if he was just like that from lack of practice? Here he was, risking life and limb to find his people, all the while acting as a father to a green frog kid who may or may not have magic powers. Of course he was fucking lonely, and the thought broke my heart.

* * *

I sat down on my haunches beside the child as he stared hungrily at the hunk of Krayt dragon meat turning on the spit. The droid to my right chirped happily and the child cooed back. He reached out his hand and I gently pushed it back down.

"Careful, that's too hot," I said gently.

The hanger was strangely silent once more and I wondered just how much business Pelli actually got. Maybe she was good gambler.

The kid looked up at me and I smiled, absently stroking the fuzz on his ears. He seemed to like it. We had been waiting in the Hanger for nearly an hour for the mysterious contact. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impatient. Nevarro was my next port of call, soon as Mando had his info, we'd be off and he'd drop me there and that would be it. I'd find Derrel and I'd be happy.

The child cooed again as he leaned into my hand, his eyes fluttering shut. I smiled again and tried to ignore the thorn in my side at the thought of never seeing them again. Because the likelihood was, once I set foot on Nevarro, the two of us would sink back into the shadows. I never saw him, he never saw me, right? It was what I wanted, I had to keep it that way, for my own safety as well as his. I smiled down at the kid one final time and hoped he could see that I would miss him. This is what I had to do. I was so close now, close enough that even the fears I had about meeting Derrell were starting to fade. I was happy. This was excitement, not apprehension. I just wasn't used to it. The sooner I found him, the better.

I was pulled away from my thoughts when I watched the Frog person with a glowing rucksack walk towards the Crest. My startled gaze found the Mandalorian, who made his way towards me with his hands on his hips. He didn't meet my eyes.

"There's been a change of plans," he said, sheepishly. If he could in fact be sheepish. I stood slowly and folded my arms.

"What do you mean a change of plans?"

The helmet lifted up to finally meet my face, his hands still on his hips.

"I can't take you to Nevarro."

It took me a second to process what he was saying. The guilty stance, the hurried way he'd said it. He was breaking his deal. His words all but winded me. For one, we'd made a deal and he was going back on it, and that sting of betrayal sank into my gut more than I wanted to admit. On the other hand, he was leaving me on Tatooine. He knew I was being hunted, he knew he was my only chance off this rock alive, and still he was leaving me behind. He didn't care in the slightest what happened to me, really, when push came to shove, it was him and his kid and I was stupid for daring to think otherwise.   
I watched as the frog woman peered out nervously from the side of the Razor Crest.

"So, that's it, you're just gonna leave me here? Froggy in, Glade out, that it?"

"I can give you the credits to buy passage, but I can't drop-"

"Why the fuck not? You made me a deal, Mando." I raised my voice.

He leaned in closer to me, "I'm not a taxi service," he said, his voice edged with frustration.

"Yeah, well I wasn't a fucking tour guide either, I still got you to Mos Pelgo."

He sighed heavily, and looked to the ground.

"It's the price I'm paying for her information, I get her to Trask before the Equinox or her eggs die."

I scoffed, "And why does that mean you can't take me to Nevarro?"

"I don't have the time to drop you off, not sub light."

I folded me arms and glared at him, relishing how he shifted under it. If he was going to ditch me, the least he could was feel bad about it.

"You're breaking the deal," I said.

"I shouldn't have made it with you in the first place," he groused, turning to walk away.

"Excuse me?" I gasped, following him towards the Razor Crest.

"You broke onto my ship," he said, spinning back to face me.

I laughed bitterly, "Oh that's fucking rich!"

He turned away once more and punched in the code to open the doors of the Crest. They hissed and wheezed open, the gangway steadying with an resounding clank. Silence settled over the hanger for a moment, the heavy sort that begged to be broken. He reached into his pocket and held out a credit chit towards me. I scoffed and pushed his hand away.

"Fuck you," I hissed but he pushed the chit into my hand and levelled me with a look.

"I'm not happy about it either, Glade."

I looked at his gloved hands over mine and was startled by the lump that appeared in my throat. I wanted to shove his charity in his face, wanted to tell him that I didn't need his credits, I didn't need his ship either. I'd made it this far without him, I'd make it to Nevarro by myself. So why didn't I?

"Not to interrupt this tiff, but couldn't you just take her to Nevarro once you find the Mandalorians?" Pelli shouted through a mouthful of dragon meat.

The two of us glanced at her, then back to each other, then his gaze fell to his hands that still held mine. He jerked them away and straightened his posture, waiting for me to speak. I wasn't going to make it that easy for him. I cocked a hip and folded my arms, staring him down, daring him to say no.

He sighed and shook his head, his hands finding their place on his hips.

"That agreeable to you?" he said.

I tried to hide my surprise, and quell the biting remark I had ready behind my teeth. I simply shrugged and bit my tongue.

"Great!" Pelli called, "I'd hate to see you two part on such icy terms." she pouted playfully and I shot her a frown. Mando had already stalked off to gather up the kid.

"You not staying for dinner?" she asked him.

"No."

She through her hands up in defeat, "Great, back to one word answers." she said before turning to me with an arched brow, "Enjoy your trip."

And with that, she sauntered off. Mando, climbed aboard the Crest, the kid in tow but paused at the top of the gang way. He looked at me and nodded towards the ship.

"You coming?" he asked.

In my mind I knew I could sneak off Tatooine without him. It would be quicker, no detours, no waiting around. I still held his credit chit in my hand, there was more than enough to buy me safe passage to anywhere I wanted. I turned it over in my hands and watched as the low golden light of hanger glinted off its polished edges.

And there was the tingle up my spine. A change in direction, another shift. This was a fork in the road. One way lead me straight to Derrell, easy and quick and the sensible option. I'd finally have what I was looking for after all those years.

I looked back up to the Mandalorian, still standing at the top of the gangway, awaiting my reply. He looked like a statue, if not for his cape blowing gently in the breeze and the way his hand fidgeted at his belt. It was almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make a smirk tug at my cheeks.

I clambered up onto the gangway beside him and shoved the credit chit into his chest. He struggled to keep a hold of it.

"No hand cuffs this time, please," I said as I walked past him, "Not unless I ask very nicely."

I heard his exasperated sigh even over the hiss of the doors closing doors.


	6. Chapter 6

I had underestimated just how slow travelling without hyper drive could be. Instead of whizzing past us in silver ribbons, the stars drifted by, like blossoms floating down a lazy river. Space seemed an awful lot bigger at this speed. Still it was pretty in its way, beautiful even. I leaned back in the seat with a contented sigh and watched the stars swim by above me. The only sound was the lull of the old ship's engine and the soft snoring of the frog lady behind me. It was enough to almost make me drift off, but the clanking of metal coming up the ladder made me sit up straight. I spun round in the seat with an innocent smile on my face.

"You're in my seat," he said, folding his arms

I frowned, "I don't see your name on it."

He ignored me, sighing once more before leaning round me to type in a few calibrations on the dashboard. The old systems whirred and clicked but settled once more as the old razor crest picked up its speed. Only slightly, the stars still meandered past and the hum of the ship was still a whisper. I stretched before relinquishing his seat, and slouched down into my own.

"You've got the better view," I yawned.

"It's the pilot's seat," he said, sitting down and clicking a few more buttons.

It was relaxing to watch him work. He typed in navigations easily, tugged on the old buttons that were harder to budge without a second glance. He knew the dashboard like the back of his hand. His movements were easy, natural. How long had he been doing this?

"So, the helmet thing," I asked.

His hand slipped and punched the wrong button. The ship shuddered as it veered off course. He hissed a curse and quickly stabilized us once more.

I chuckled sleepily, "Touchy subject?"

"No."

"Really?"

He sighed and stopped his calibrations.

"There's only so many times I can answer the same questions."

I felt guilty then. It would get infinitely irritating to have people prying after information that you had no intention of sharing. It was his religion, wasn't it? Or something like a religion, at least. It wasn't any of my business to ask his about his helmet, or the removal thereof. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious but still, I knew what it was like to have people press you about something so personal.

"Alright let's start smaller," I began.

He looked back over his shoulder.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"What?"

"Favourite colour? Mine is purple, but not deep purple, more like a lilac purple. Nice and soft and cool," I yammered.

"Huh," was all he said, before letting the quiet seep back into the cockpit.

Gods he was a tough nut to crack. I tried to swallow my frustration at his less than forthcoming attitude, but I had decided to try and be on friendlier terms with him. We seemed to be stuck in a pendulum. One minute things were amicable, the next they turned sour. If I was going to be stuck with him all the way to Trask and back, then I at least wanted to enjoy his company. I tried to not pry any further. It wasn't in my nature to let things go, and it wasn't in my nature to sit in silence either. So I tried to distract myself. I watched the stars as they drifted by and I watched him fly the ship. When that got old, I fidgeted with the old bit of wiring sticking of the wall. That quickly became boring, so I tucked it back in and sighed. I was never able to sit still, and with little else to occupy myself I started to drum a little rhythm on my knees. It was quite a catchy beat, if I do say so myself, but just when my impromptu drum solo reached its climax, Mando spun around in his seat. I stopped and put my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry," I whispered.

"It's going to be a long journey, you should get some rest, specially with that head wound." he said.

My hand immediately poked at the bandages. I'd almost forgotten about it, but the dull ache came back to me as soon as my fingers grazed it. I muttered a curse and stood from my seat.

"I should change these," I explained, taking my leave down the ladder and to the hull.

I knew I saw a small latrine towards the end of the hull before, hopefully there'd be some kind of first aid kit there. The light in the latrine flickered before steadying. It was a harsh kind of light, white and all encompassing. It bounced off the close metals wall surrounding me. In fact everything in the tiny space was metal. The tiny metal toilet, the tiny metal shower, the tiny metal sink in front of me. In fact I think the mirror was metal too, it was warped and unflattering. It made my nose bulge and my eyes shrink. I wondered how he stuck it. It wasn't just the latrine, the whole ship lacked any kind of creature comforts. Everything was in working order, yes, but it was cold, damp and nothing was added that was unnecessary or frivolous.

I poked about in the bare cabinet behind the mirror, trying to find some kind of dressing for my head. All I could cobble together was a roll of old bandages, a needle and thread. I looked down at the bare bones of the first aid kit I held in my hands and sighed. It was all that was needed for him. There were no small dressings for cuts and bruises, just the needle and thread to stitch himself back together. I placed them neatly back in the cabinet and shut it with a click, my hand resting on the cool metal mirror for a moment.

I pitied him. In that moment I'd looked around the place he'd called home and I was sad for him. It was stupid of me, I know. He was a sensible person, that's all. He just didn't waste time on things like comfortable chairs, or bunks or and mirror that actually reflected. He wore a helmet most of his life, what did he need the mirror for?  
I shook my head and my train of thought with it. Really, he shouldn't have been occupying my mind as much as he was. I'm sure I wasn't, his.

Gently, I pealed away the bandages that were wrapped around my forehead. The gash on my temple was angry looking, but it had stopped bleeding.

"You're better letting the air at it, Glade," my mother would have said.

It was her go to for anything. Leave it alone and hope it goes away.

To be fair to her, it usually worked. With cuts and scrapes and everything else. She had enough patience to let things play themselves out. I did not. Not usually anyhow, but with little other option than to let the air at it, I did just that. I reached for the small cloth hanging beside the sink to give it a quick rinse, but my hand froze. There perched on the edge of the sink beside the tap, was a small razor. Something about the small used blade made me smile. The one unnecessary item he had, to keep whatever scruff he had under that helmet in check. It was ridiculously endearing, but such an intrusion.

Immediately I switched off the light and made my way back out into the cool glow of the hull. It was a blue dark in the hull. There were the strips of light that ran along the walls. Bright enough to see where you were going and only that. Necessary, useful. But it was brighter now from the beam of the frog lady's egg tank. It gave off a pretty glow, warm and serene, like the lights that used to sit in some of the seedier clubs Karmon owned. My eye was drawn to it, and I watched as the eggs bobbed around in it peacefully, or I would have, had a chubby green hand not dived into the tank and scooped one out.

"Hey!"

I leapt to the tanks defense but it was too late, the kid had already sucked down the egg. I froze on the spot and he did too. His big brown eyes looking up at me, wondering what the problem was. Finding none he put his hand in again, but I was quicker this time.

"No," I scolded, scooping him up and shutting the tank.

He pouted up at me, his bottom lip quivering.

"We don't eat peoples' eggs. That's very bad," I continued. He let out a sad little gurgle and a sniff as he reached back out to the tank. The lid of it flipped open and the eggs vibrated inside.

"I said no," I hissed, shutting the tank with a slam and pulling away his hand, "And no more magic hand thing, okay?"

His sad eyes were almost enough to melt me then, but I levelled him with a look, trying hard to summon the one my mother used to give me. His ears fluttering flat onto his head, told me it worked.

"Don't yell at the kid," Mando's voice came from behind me and I spun to face him. Instantaneously, he took the kid out of my arms and into his own.

"I wasn't yelling."

He gently set the little green monster in his hammock.

"Nap time," he whispered before shutting the door and turning back to me.

"I wasn't yelling," I reiterated in a whisper, ignoring the guilt that pricked me at the thought.

He tilted his helmet in a subtle challenge as he walked to the latrine and switched on the light.

I folded my arms and scoffed.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I seemed a little harsh, but your kid's choice of midnight snack is somewhat questionable."

He was poking around the shelves below the sink but stopped to tilt his helmet towards me in the same old exasperated fashion. I rolled my eyes and turned away from him, throwing a piece of old tarp over the egg tank. Hopefully that would deter any further infanticide. I turned back when I heard the creaking of his armour to see him holding out a small packet of wound dressings. I took them slowly.

"Thanks..." I said with half a smile.

"You're welcome," he said, and watched as I tore open the packet.

I shimmied past him and into the latrine and examined my wound once more in the mirror. I stuck the dressing down firmly with a small wince, tilting my head forward and back to make sure it was secured. I looked back to the shadow of the Mandalorian where he stood in the darkness of the hull. I flourished my hands with a smile.

"There we are, all patched up," I said.

I thought I heard him let out a small breath, almost like a laugh. Maybe I was imagining it because his figure was still. But he seemed relaxed, leaning against the door of his bunk, thumb hooked in his belt. It was strange. It was strange also that neither of us moved or looked away from the other. Stranger still how _not strange_ it was. Like it was the most natural thing in the world for us to simply stand silently in each other's company. I cleared my throat and turned away first and just like that the moment filtered away into nothing.

I was about to say something smart, something about how did he ever fit into such a small space as the latrine, just something inane like that to fill the heavy void. Fortunately, I was interrupted by the blaring of an alarm coming from the cockpit. His relaxed pose vanished and immediately, he was climbing up the ladder to investigate. I followed close behind, leaning over his seat to get a better look at the radar. It was flashing red, with two dots pulling up on either side of us.

"Pirates?" I asked.

"No, worse."

I frowned and dared to peak me head closer the window where I saw the unmistakable outline of an X-wing.

"Shit," I hissed, leaping away from the glass.

Mando flexed a gloved hand before flicking a switch and opening the comms.

"Razor Crest do you copy?" The fuzzed voice of a new republic officer crackled though the old speakers.

I lightly tapped Mando's shoulder to get his attention. He looked to me briefly and I shook my head, but he waved a dismissive hand.

"This is Razor Crest, is there a problem?" he said calmly.

"Mando," I hissed but he silenced me with a sternly pointed finger.

The officer continued through the comms, "We noticed your transponder is not emitting."

I slapped his shoulder once more and signaled for him to quit while he was ahead.

"Mando, they pulled you over for a reason," I whispered through my teeth.

I could feel the daggers he was shooting me, even through the helmet, but it didn't matter. I was right. New Republic didn't just stop for nothing.

"Yes, I'm pre-Empire surplus, I'm not required to run a beacon," he said, but he immediately covered the comms with his hand and spun to face me.

"Sit down, I've got this," he hissed.

"Oh, really," I hissed back. "I can't get caught by the republic, they'll arrest me on sight. And I'm more than willing to bet if they run your tabs, they'll find a few warrant worthy things too."

"I said I've got this."

I tried to protest further but he took his hand off the comm. I clamped my jaw shut and tried to refrain from cursing at him. Gods, he was more stubborn that I was.

"That was before," the officer said, "This sector is under New Republic jurisdiction. All craft are require to run a beacon."

His shoulders relaxed, "Thank you for letting me know, I'll get right on it," he said.

"Not a problem. Safe travels." and with that the comms went silent.

I let my head fall back against the wall in relief. Maybe I overreacted. I got tetchy around the republic. They had this idea of good and bad, not like the empire. The Empire let things slide, The Republic upheld things. I had a track record as long as my arm, and I wasn't about to get caught and thrown in jail. Not after all this time.

"May the force be with you," Mando said uneasily and I couldn't help the ugly snort that burst out. I bit my lip when he turned back to me with that exasperated head tilt.

"Okay, so I overreacted," I whispered.

"I had it under control," he said, turning back round in his chair.

"I wouldn't exactly call that under control. Hoping for the best; maybe," I chuckled.

"What did you want me to do? I can't out run an X-wing."

"You wouldn't need to outrun them, just out maneuver," I shrugged.

"Out maneuver," he scoffed.

"Well, I'm willing to bet you're a better pilot than most."

He turned round and looked at me, the helmet glanced down and then up again, before turning back to the dashboard.

"You're willing to bet on a lot of things," he mumbled.

I smirked, and leaned easily on the dashboard beside him.

"I love a gamble, don't you?" I said.

"Depends on the odds."

He turned his gaze up to face me once more and once again that heavy silence threaded its way between us. I felt my mouth turn dry and tried to swallow but nerves stopped me from moving. He cleared his throat, about to speak but the comms blared and broke off whatever train of thought he had. He flicked the switch again, and I felt my shoulders tense.

"Just one more thing. I'm gonna need you to send us a ping. We're out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts," the voice crackled through once more.

Mando glanced back at me and I shrugged. I didn't know what the fuck a ping was. Gods, I could barely remember the last time I'd flown a ship.

"I'll let you know if I see any," he replied.

I rolled my eyes and turned away. He couldn't keep going with this act, they could see through it a mile off.

"I'm still gonna need you to send us that ping," said the officer.

I spun back round and slapped his shoulder once more. He shook his head firmly and my temper flared.

"Hang up," I said through gritted teeth.

He put his hand over the comm.

"This is getting ridiculous," I whispered, "Just make a break for it, I told you, out maneuver. Don't tell me you've never had a chase before. I mean, in this hunk of junk you couldn't out run a Bantha, I know you've got a couple of tricks up your sleeves, just go! Right now, do it, it'll be the last thing they expect, you could-"

" _Glade."_

Oh, he had cursed my name.

It silenced me, the way he said it. The way it sounded on his lips was like a spell. Like I was powerless against the way his tongue twisted round the 'L' sound... It wasn't like me to be speechless.  
I cleared my throat and held my chin higher, hoping he didn't realize how much of a victory he'd just won. He slowly turned away from me and back to the comms.

"I'm not sure I have that hardware online," he said, though his voice was unsteady.

"We can wait," the officer replied.

I folded my arms and fixed Mando with a pointed glare. He hesitated and flexed his hands once more.

"Glad to see you've got this under control," I smiled.

He ignored me.

"Yeah, I... Doesn't seem to be working," he said.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"That's too bad. If we can't confirm that you're not Imperial, you're gonna have to follow us to the outpost at Adelphi. They'll run your tabs." The officer sounded smug. He knew, we weren't going to come quietly. We'd lost the jump on them.

It was then I lost my temper. I reached across him and covered the speaker myself.

"Dank Farrick, Mando, hang up the line," I growled.

There was a scuffle. He tore my hand away from the speaker, I replaced it with my left one. He tore that one away too and before I knew it I was caught against his chest, my arms trapped tightly under his as he opened the comms once more.

"Oh wait there it is. Transmitting now," he said.

"Smooth," I huffed, still struggling against his grip.

For a moment however, there was quiet. We waited with baited breath to see if they called his bluff. That moment seemed to stretch. Soon his arms no longer trapped me but held me, and I no longer struggled to be free. It was natural, easy... I turned my neck up to look at him and the slat of the helmet met my gaze.

The spell broke. He pushed away and I pulled back and all at once we were free of each other.

It was then that the frog lady let out and croaky gasp behind us. She startled awake and looked about her surroundings, muttering in her guttural language.

"Be quiet," Mando hissed back to her.

I quickly crouched down in front of her and held a finger to my lips, hoping that the signal was universal enough to get her to pipe down.

"What's that?" The officer demanded.

Mando steadied himself once more, "Uh, nothing. The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold."

I scoffed and stood beside him once more.

"You're running out of bullshit, Mando," I warned.

There was a brief silence from the other end, the two of us waiting once more to see if we'd gotten away with it. It wasn't likely. I wasn't usually a glass half empty kind of person but the situation warranted it.

"Carson can you switch over to channel two?" A second voice said over the speaker.

I watched the Mandalorian carefully then. His shoulders slumped, though not with relief. He sighed and began flicking on a couple of switches. I glanced out of the window then and froze when I saw the X-wings ready their guns.

"Was your craft in the proximity of New Republic Correctional Transport, Bothan-Five?" The first voice crackled through.

Mando and I shared a glance.

"Are you shitting me?" I mouthed.

"You might wanna buckle up," was all he said before, grabbing the controls and diving away from the two X-wings.

The force of it propelled me across the cockpit and into my seat. I struggled to sit up straight and fasten my belt what with the speed at which Mando was making his turns. The frog lady was beside herself. She screamed loudly the whole way down, even as we breached the nearby planet's atmosphere. I tried my best to calm her down but there was no getting through. I looked ahead instead to see great sheets of fog flying by us. I gripped onto whatever I could as Mando ducked and weaved his way through the clouds with as much ease as you'd drive a speeder bike.

"I can't shake them," he called over the roar of the engines.

The Razor crest felt as if it were about to collapse. Alarms blared, lights flashed. It was an old ship, it wouldn't hold out much longer at this intensity.

"Cut the thrusters!" I called.

"What?"

"Trust me, we get below the clouds we lose them. It's a heavy ship, gravity will do the rest!"

I watched him hesitate. Weighing up his options. I didn't expect him to do it.

All at once the ship died and we were falling. The frog lady let out a fresh batch of screams and I tried hard to ignore the way my head pounded with the G force. Then all at once, he pulled on the thrusters again, levelling out the Crest and sending a jolt of adrenalin up my spine. I unbuckled my belt and approached the dashboard once more, clinging onto to stray wires for balance.

The planet below us was white with snow. Great icy peaks jutted the landscape, Mando dodged in and out of them with ease.

"Shit," he cursed. It surprised me to hear him swear but only briefly. The two red dots had reappeared on the radar.

"Don't make us do it, Razor Crest," the officer's voice crackled into the cockpit.

I leaned forward and scanned the landscape. There had to be some way to lose them. The were patrol officers, surely they'd give up at the first sign of trouble. That's when I saw it, the long stretch of shadow cracking its way along the sheet of ice.

"There, the canyon," I pointed.

"On it," He already had us veering into it.

How he managed to maneuver that hunk of junk through that canyon, I'll never know. But he did. He weaved in and out of the icy rocks like it was second nature, his hands pulling the right levers at the right time, flicking the right switches just as we need the power. He was a good pilot. In fact he was good at just about everything he did. I thought back to how deadly a he was with a rifle, how easily he took down the Krayt Dragon. Everything he did, he did it with finesse.

It took everything in me not to clamber on top of him then and there, but he jolt of the ship as we crashed into the icy ground thrust me back to reality. I lurched forward and grabbed onto the dashboard as the ship skidded along the ice. Eventually it grinded to a halt in the mouth of a cave, rattling and clanking and sighing in relief. I turned to look at the Mandalorian, my breath coming out in heavy puffs of steam. He slumped back in his chair, finally relinquishing the controls, satisfied that our assailants had lost our trail. Then the visor turned its gaze to me. It was a lazy movement, and I dared to wonder if he was smiling under there.

"Green," he panted.

I furrowed my brow, "What?"

"My favourite colour," he supplied.

The smile the pulled at my lips was intoxicating. I let it spread and bubble into a breathless laugh. I slumped down onto the floor and sighed.

"Thanks for getting back to me on that," I chuckled.

But my joy was short lived. The Razor Crest let out an uneasy groan, then there came the thunderous crack and all at once the ground beneath us gave way. I tried to cling on for safety, but we were falling too fast. Every knock off the icy dungeon we fell into was like an earthquake. It through me from side to side, up and down and then _wallop._

Everything went dark after that. Cold and dead and Silent.


	7. Chapter 7

This was a hangover. It had to be. There was no other explanation for the roaring in my head and the feeling that I'd been hit by a cargo ship. The cold steel of the floor against my cheek was the only thing anchoring me to reality.

I dared to peak one eye open, flexing my limp fingers in front of me and wiggling my toes. Everything seemed to be in working order. I hauled myself up and took in the extent of the damage.

The ship was dead. There were no beeping alarms or flashing lights. It was still and frozen. _Gods it was freezing._ I shivered and drew my arms around my middle, as if that would some how stem the biting cold that gripped my bones. I wobbled to my feet, stumbling slightly as a dizziness set in but I was able to steady myself. The whole cockpit was glazed over with ice, the only sound the was the meek shivering of the frog lady at my feet.

"Shit," I breathed, crouching down and throwing my cloak over her quivering body. Her eyes fluttered open as she pulled it up round herself. She muttered something but I hushed her.

"Its okay, its okay," I croaked, rubbing her shoulders to try and warm her up. She was amphibian, wasn't she? The cold would do her a lot more harm than me.

The Mandalorian snapped awake to my left, his panicked and uneven breathing drawing my attention away from the frog lady. He tried to stand away from his chair but his footing faltered. I moved to steady him.

"Hey, I got you."

I almost didn't. He weighed a lot more than I was able to carry, but he corrected his posture, steadying himself with his hands on the tops of my arms. The helmet glanced around the cockpit, surveying the damage, then it fell to me. His breathing slowed, but he still held firm to my shoulders.

"The kid..." he whispered, glancing at the door, then he looked back at me, "You're bleeding."

Immediately, my hand traced the bandage on my head. It was damp with blood and I hissed out a curse.

"I'll be fine, go check on him," I said, stepping away from him and slumping into the frog lady's seat. She was now upright, babbling frantically in her language. Mando's gaze hesitated on me, then to her.

"I'll find you eggs, don't worry," he reassured her as he disappeared down the ladder to the hull.

I let my head lull back in the seat, daring to close my eyes against the dizziness and throbbing headache. It would have been so tempting to fall back into unconsciousness. To let it wash over me and drag me back into the abyss. The frog lady croaked sternly and I lazily opened my eyes.

She crouched down in front of me. My cloak was still draped around her shoulders, but she held my hands in hers and spoke to me softly.

"I'm alright," I whispered.

She shook her head and cupped my chin in her webbed hand. Her eyes were full of concern. She reached into the small pouch on her belt to reveal a small spray bottle. She titled her head and croaked again, pointing to it. I shrugged dumbly, barely able to string the words together. She sighed and worried at the bottle before gently taking hold of my chin once more.

My instinct was to flinch away, but she held my chin firm and muttered reassuringly. Gently peeling my sodden bandage off my temple, she shook the bottle. I flinched when the icy cold stung the open wound. She croaked something once more before spraying it.

I whimpered and bit my lip against the pain that shot through my head. It felt as if a thousand icicles were jabbing my brain. Then the coolness came, the soothing sort. Like a long sigh of relief, the first breath after being under water for too long and then it was numb.

She sat back on her haunches to admire her work and closed the bottle once more. Without thinking, my hand grazed my temple. I expected a slight sting but there was none, the wound was hard and scabbed over like it had been healing for weeks and not just in a moment. I tilted my head towards her in wonder.

She simply pat my hands and nodded.

"Thanks," I whispered, feeling the dizziness wash away too.

She passed me a meek thumbs up and nodded and I smiled, trying to ignore the bleakness of the situation we found ourselves in. I sighed and got to my feet, following the Mandalorian down to the hull. It was a mess. For one, there was a hole in the wall. It had let in a drift of ice and the the cold breath of the planet washed around it, unimpeded. I huddled my arm close to my chest and ventured into the dark. I heard Mando ahead of me. His figure was silhoutted by the blue light of the egg tank that he held in his hands.

"How many did you eat?" he said.

The child cooed at his feet, the picture of innocence

"I told you he had questionable tastes," I said, making my way towards them. Mando startled but said nothing more. He shut the egg tank firmly and pointed to the kid.

"Not for eating," he said, setting the tank on an up turned crate, far out of the child's reach. He looked around the wreck of the hull before turning back to me with a sigh.

"This isn't good."

"No shit," I scoffed, stepping over the debris on the floor to examine the gash in the hull's side. "How are you fixed for repair supplies?"

"The minimum. Some scrap metal and a welding gun."

I clicked my tongue and tried not to let fatalism overtake my mood. We were stuck. The main power converter wasn't responding and the hole in the side of the ship wasn't looking too cheery either.

"Where's the power line?" I asked finally. Mando nodded to the compartment in the wall he'd just been poking at.

I tugged away the cover to reveal the bunch of sparking wires. It was a mess. Whatever had ripped a hole in the side of the ship had done a number on the power line too. What else could I do but become fatalistic? It would take us days to fix the ship, even to get it off the ground, we'd need days. We didn't have days. Gods, with that cold I guessed we only had hours.

I could barely eat the small tin of food that Mando passed me. My appetite was replaced by a coil of dread ever tightening in my gut.

Trapped.

That's what it was. We were trapped like rats, destined to freeze in an icy sarcophagus, forgotten by the rest of the galaxy.

With that thought, I pushed my tin of rations to the side. The glass was once again half empty.

I heard the frog lady croak meekly to my right. She pulled the cloak I'd given her tighter around the egg tank, but I hadn't missed how the little bars had slowly been depleting. It wasn't just out lives on the line. This woman had a husband. A family. She had children to protect, a future to create. In that little tank sat everything she had ever hoped for. If she died here, would her husband ever know? Would he look for her? Would he want to know that she had died cold and surrounded by strangers?

I hauled myself to my feet. We didn't have the luxury of fatalism.

"You're bound have a reserve power converter," I spun to face the Mandalorian. He had settled down on the floor, the child cuddled up to him peacefully. He tightened his arms across his chest and sighed.

"That was the reserve," he said.

"What?"

He tilted his head in my direction, "That was the reserve converter. The old one was fried a long time ago." He lulled his head back.

"You mean to tell me you've been flying around with a back up converter this whole time?" I hissed. The child buried his face in Mando's side that bit more.

He sighed once more, "I know my ship."

"Clearly!"

The helmet was watching me. I knew he was because I could see his shoulders slowly going tense. I shook my head and bit my tongue. If he wasn't going to try, that didn't mean I had to give up. He could've been the greatest pilot in the galaxy but flying on a reserve was just plain stupid. This is what they were for. In case of an emergency like the one we were currently in, but no! He hadn't bothered to get his main power converter fixed, so now we were stuck. I pinched the bridge of my nose, his lack of foresight was giving me a headache.

"The main converter, where is it?" I asked, trying to level my voice.

"I'll have a better idea of our prospects in the morning," was all he said.

I felt my frustration boil over. He was just sitting there, calm as you like, as if we had all the time in the world.

"And do you think she has until morning? If we do nothing she's dead," I said, gesturing to the frog lady. She glanced between the two of us and muttered something. Her webbed hands clutched tighter to her egg tank and she gulped. I shouldn't have said it.

Before I could register what had happened, Mando had stood. Grabbing my upper arm he hauled me away from the frog lady to a quieter corner of the hull. His grip was tight, almost enough to bruise.

"You know as well as I do we're lucky if we make it out of here alive," he hissed.

In the midst of the rush, I found my sense and shrugged him off. He let me go with no further protest.

"You touch me like that again, I'll put a fucking hole in your head," I hissed and I meant it. I didn't make threats idly, and the last person to grab me like that was lying at the bottom of a lake somewhere. His hand was still hanging between us and he flexed it before it dropped back to his side. His shoulders relaxed and he looked to the ground.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"You know what, fuck you," I hissed back, pointing an accusatory finger. "If you had just bolted when I said so, we wouldn't even be in this mess. Or better yet! If you fixed your power drive!"

"The power drive was fine."

"Oh yeah, sure, top notch working order," I scoffed.

He put his hands on his hips and leaned in closer to me, lowering his voice.

"I shouldn't have agreed to the deal, neither of you should be on my ship, least of all you."

I furrowed my brow, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You trespassed on my ship and tried to kill me."

"Oh, change the fucking tune, Mando," I groaned.

Gods, I could positively hear his jaw clenching. It was the angriest I'd seen him, well, the angriest since our first encounter. Even at that, there was a rawness to how he held himself now. He bristled and fidgeted as if he wanted to yell but he held himself back.

Well, fuck him. He'd pissed me off too.

Before I could continue the bickering, he stalked off, his cloak almost snapping at how quickly he turned away. I tossed him yet another unsavory gesture behind his back and hauled myself up the ladder and into the cockpit. The old power drive had to be in here somewhere. Poking around the control panel was fruitless. It was an old ship, honestly I was surprised it even had more than one converter. Failing in finding anything useful, I tried flicking some buttons. None of them gave any response. She was out cold. I tried in vain, to start the ship up manually, but anything connecting the engines to the power was completely short circuited. I gave the dashboard a swift kick and ground out a string of curses.

My plan had been to find the main power converter and see if it was salvageable. It was usually more stable than a reserve, easier to fix too. It would've been a good idea if only I knew where it was. I didn't want to ask him. I didn't want to see him, childish though it sounded. I slumped down in Mando's seat and shut my eyes, the unfamiliar sting of hurt forming at the back of my throat. I tried to swallow it down but it wouldn't budge. It was a strange sensation, one I hadn't felt in years. One of guilt but at the same time, anger. I'd fought with him. Not that that was unusual for me. I could argue until my face was blue and not think twice about it.

But here I was, thinking twice.

I tried once again to massage the headache away, but it wasn't going anywhere. I tried instead to focus on my anger at him. Anger was easy, straightforward. He'd treated me like I was just one of his quarries, some lowlife thug that he had to deal with. I should have been outraged. Then why was this lump sitting at the back of my throat? I tried to swallow it again, tried to ignore the fact that my lip was quivering, and not just because of the cold.

It hurt to think that that's all I was to him. Something to put up with.

"Fuck," I hissed, straightening my back and giving my face a few sharp slaps.

I'd overestimated where I stood with him. I'd been stupid enough to take down a few bricks and hope I might have found connection. It was nothing more than obligation. A deal he made with me that he had to see through. I swallowed the lump and cleared my throat, about to have another go at finding the main power converter, when I heard a clatter from outside the ship. My hand immediately felt for the blaster on my hip as I peered out the window.

At first I didn't see anything, just the blue glow of the icy cave. A few flecks of snow filtered down from the hole above but other than that the cave was still. It was then I saw the glint of the helmet to my right. He through down an old rusted tool kit into the snow and yanked off a panel on the nose of the ship. I watched him as he studied the open panel. His shoulders were still tense and with a frustrated shake of his head, he slammed it shut again. He turned his back to the ship and slumped against it. Little flecks of snow fell onto the back of his helmet as he glared at the icy ground. He looked like a statue again, cold and distant and inhuman. Perhaps it was easier to think of him this way. Forget the razor in the washroom, forget the way he flexed his hands when he was anxious. He was the Mandalorian, and I was just a passenger. I shouldn't have wanted to be anything else.

The snow continued to fall on his helmet. He hadn't moved. A statue once more. That was until his hands reached up and he pulled it off. My eyes widened and I stepped away from the window, only catching sight of short brown curls that he ran a gloved hand through. I fell back into the shadow of the cockpit, one half of me desperate to take another look, the other wishing I'd never saw him.

I chewed at the skin on my thumb and cursed. Couldn't get much more human than that. I closed my eyes and saw him again. I could imagine what his face looked like, how he smiled and what colour his eyes were. I chastised myself for doing it, picturing instead how angry I should be. Picturing it, not feeling it.

My legs moved of their own accord and before I could stop myself I was standing outside of the ship. I shivered against the cold but at least the cave kept away with wind chill. Still, the light was fading above us and the cave wasn't as cosy as I would have liked. For one there were too many tunnels. Too many unknowns. The sooner we got out the better, and many hands make light of work. Or so my mother used to say. She also said too many cooks spoil the broth, but two cooks was better than one in this situation.

I hovered by the engine and and watched quietly as he poked through the old tool box. The helmet was once again back in place and the panel was hanging open. To the untrained eye, it would have seemed just a cluster of old wires, but it wasn't. That was the main power converter. I made my approach, my feet crunching down on the thick ice that coated the rocky floor. He seemed startled at first, standing up and turning, his hand itching at his blaster, but relaxed when he saw it was me.

"You shouldn't be out here," he said, turning back to the converter.

I rubbed my hands over the bare patches on my shoulders and stood next to him.

"Thought I'd give you a hand," I said, reaching down into the tool kit to pull out a pair of rusted plyers. I turned them over in my hand and looked back to him with an arched brow. "You don't seem as if you do this very often."

He cleared his throat, "Only when it's needed."

I handed them to him and he took them slowly. I stepped closer and pointed to one of the old wires. It was frayed and torn up, but we could take another from the reserve converter to patch it up.

"That one," I said.

He obliged and cut it out, letting it fall with a muted clatter onto the ground.

"That one too, it'll just short the patch up," I said, stepping closer once more. He had to reach around my shoulder to cut the next wire. I could hear his breathing through the helmet.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said hoarsely.

I frowned and looked closer at the wires, "No, it should be fine. Maybe a bit long but we can trim it down when we take the spare-"

"Before," was all he said.

I didn't turn around to face him, my nerves anchoring me to the spot. I pretended to fidget with the converter, instead.

"It's fine," I said.

"Glade-"

"I shouldn't have panicked the frog lady either. We're in a tight spot, tensions boil over," I said, trying to keep my tone light but not daring to turn around and face him. Instead I reached my hand back and clicked my fingers, "Now hand me the plyers before we freeze to death." I chirped, though even to my ears it sounded forced.

He hesitated before setting the plyers gently in my palm. I would have continued to repair the wires had his hand not hesitated over my pulse. I froze and tried not to shudder at the intimacy of it. The rest of my body went numb and I tried to pull my hand away. I should have pulled my hand away... But I didn't want to. I let him slowly wrap his fingers around my wrist, felt my mouth go dry as he stepped closer to me. I could feel him behind me, centimeters away, his hand gently holding my wrist. I swallowed hard and tried to steady my breathing. Everything we did as slow as the snow flakes that drifted down from above.

Then all at once he was gone. The tension flowed out of my body and I could breathe again. I heard his footsteps behind me crunching into the ice but I didn't dare to turn round. That would make whatever had just happened seem important, and it wasn't. It wasn't anything to think about, nothing to get hung up on. No, it wouldn't have been. A few minutes ago he was regretting ever meeting me. Any tenderness I read into it, was due to my own idiocy.

So I shook it off. I cleared my throat and pushed back my shoulders and continued to fix the power converter as I had been. The spot where he'd held on my wrist still tingled with the memory of his touch and my cheeks were warm, even against the biting cold. There was that headache again.

He had posted up on the opposite end of the ship, welding something or other. I didn't watch him long enough to see. We continued at our tasks in silence, not crossing paths, not uttering word. It went on for hours. Power converters were fidgety things, but I could have had it in working order sooner. I just didn't want to have to sit in silence. At least I could pretend to be busy and avoid any _real_ sort of silence. The awkward kind, the kind that begs to be addressed.

Not on my watch.

So I continued to pretend to fix things, not looking up from my menial tasks for fear I'd meet his gaze. That was until I heard him speaking fervently to the child. I peaked my head over the wing to see him following a set of footprints towards one of the tunnels. I tried not seem too put out by his sudden wandering off, but I couldn't help the frown.

"Where are you off to?" I called. My voice sounding louder than it ought to have been.

He half turned, kid in tow, "She wandered off," he said.

My mouth made a small 'Oh' and I passed him a stiff thumbs up to convey my understanding. He nodded back, equally as stiff. When he disappeared down the mouth of the tunnel I let out a long sigh of relief. I slumped against the ship and pinched the bridge of my nose.

_What the hell was I doing?_

For one I was making the situation far more complicated than it needed to be. If ever we got off this planet, we'd make our way to Trask. He'd carry out his business and then after he would take me to Nevarro, just like our deal specified. The idea made me nervous. Like I was getting myself in too deep. No, perhaps it would be better if I simply made my own way to Nevarro from there. We were going to part ways eventually, better do it sooner rather than later. Yes, better I get myself out before...

_Before what, Glade?_

The resounding boom that echoed out over the cave managed to halt my train of thought. It came from the tunnel Mando had disappeared down. I leapt up and listened further to hear the distant sounds of blaster fire.

"Shit," I hissed and without a second thought I was charging towards the sound. I tried to bite back the fear that had lurched up my spine and instead focused on arming my own blaster. It wasn't like me to run towards the sound of an explosion. It wasn't like me to do a lot of things.

Before I could reach the mouth of the tunnel, the blasts reached their crescendo. Mando, the kid and the frog lady came bounding from around the corner, followed, naturally, by a horde of spiders. I stopped running towards them then, in fact I'd never turned so quick on my heal in my life. I tried firing back at the horrible things, but spiders had always been a weakness of mine and I fired wide both times before I gave up. The three of us charged into the Razor Crest, fighting off the swarm of eight legged monsters as best we could but we were being over run. We managed to get ourselves to the cockpit, but they were coming through the door and we couldn't get it shut.

"What the hell happened?" I shouted over the roars and shrieks of the creatures. The scraping of their spiked legs against the metal door set my teeth on edge.

Mando said nothing, just let lose the flame thrower and burnt the most immediate spiders away. He shut the door with a slam and sat down at the dashboard.

"You think it'll fly?" he panted.

I was stuck for a moment, aghast once again at how easily he seemed to brush off things. I could've argued. Could have made a snide remark about how he always seems to bring trouble with him. But the kid was crying, the froglady looked about ready to faint and the spiders weren't going away. I hastily stood beside him and began flicking a few tester buttons.

"She won't get us off world but we'll be out of immediate danger," I said.

He glanced up and nodded to me, readying the ship for take off. His practiced movements brought the old hunk of junk whirring back to life. She wheezed and coughed and the engines flickered, but it was working. He'd managed to get her a few feet off the ground and I dared to let myself slouch in relief, but no sooner had the tension in my shoulders dissipated, did the ship shudder back to the ground, the force with which it fell knocking me back onto the hard floor. Above us, an angular white shadow hovered. Too many eyes watching us, too many teeth bared in its horrifying circular jaws. In a terrifyingly fast motion, it struck the ship with one of its jagged legs, cracking the window of the cockpit. I shrieked and shuffled back, the feeling of being trapped once again seeping into my muscles.

Mando continued to try and raise the ship, but it was impossible, not with that thing baring down its jaws on the glass, clawing at the metal to try and get to us. I looked to my right to see the frog lady clutching at not only her egg tank, but also the kid, who huddled against her away from the giant spider.

Was this it then? Is this how I died? cowering away from a giant monster, powerless to protect the people around me. What was I supposed to do? You'd need one hell of a blaster to even think about taking that thing down. Even Mando had stopped his panicked lever pulling. No, this couldn't be it. Not for them at least. The frog lady had a future to live for, Mando had the kid. I couldn't just let them die here and not even try. Besides, what did I have other than a long lost brother who probably wouldn't know me? It was the truth, and it felt like a rock dropping in my gut to finally admit it. He had a life without me, he had moved on and made himself something. He probably had a family, one that would try and make room for me but I knew I wouldn't fit in it. I was clinging to him to give me the life that was taken from me so long ago, hoping in a twisted way that he was as lost and alone as I was. Selfish isn't it?

I pulled up myself unsteadily, not taking my eyes off the monster as it slobbered over the window, flinching at every scrape its teeth made against the glass. I rested a hand on Mando's shoulder and squeezed it lightly when he startled. He looked up at me, his shoulders heaving.

"You tell Derrel I tried, okay?" I said.

If I could see his face he would have frowned.

"What?"

I didn't answer, just gave his shoulder another light squeeze before arming my blaster and charging back out into the broken hull. I slammed the door shut behind me, ignoring Mando shouting after me. I moved quickly, firing at the larger groups of spiders that noticed me. Kicking and clawing my way back out into the icy cave. I broke into a sprint when the cold air hit my face, the smaller spiders ignoring me once more, but they weren't the ones I needed to see me. I ran to the very farthest end of the cave and raised my blaster to my eye. My hands were strangely steady, like what I was about to do wasn't real. Like I was watching this person aim and fire at the giant spider. The blast barely marked it, but it drew its gaze and it faced me with an almighty roar. I fired once more, trying to steady my breathing as it began to bound towards me. Its eight legs thundered towards me, it's jaws opening wide as it bared down on me. I fired again, cursing the Mandalorian's stubbornness.

"Come on TinCan, just go!" I hissed, firing once more.

The monster still galloped towards me, letting out another piercing roar as it took one final leap towards me. The scream got stuck in my throat, the pain I expected, the sound of my own bones crunching never came. Instead, red light flashed before my eyes and and the shriek of two X-Wings whirred over my head. The creature fell limp a few feet before me.

I stumbled back a pace, watching as the smoke rose off its scorched skin where the blasts had hit it. It was a crumpled mass of legs and even as the x-wings continued to fire at the remainder of the spiders all I could see was the few feet of snow that sat between me and that monster. That's how close I'd come. Two feet. My uneven breathing began to rise and the terror caught up to me. It felt as though I was trying to breathe through and blanket, the cold air, stinging my nose as it was, was not enough. I stepped back and turned away from the corpse and tried to calm myself down.

I'd nearly died, and on purpose no less. Why had it felt like the only thing to do? It was the easy thing, the simplest way to end the saga I had set myself on. No matter what way I looked at it, it was coming to an end, some sort of cycle was reaching its completion and in all honesty, I didn't see it playing out any other way.

I heard someone calling my name, muffled and distant. I hadn't died though. I was still here and he was still calling out to me. I was here, I was alive. Gods, did that not count for something? I shut my eyes and let out a long slow breath when I heard his footstep come to a halt behind me. I turned and tried to fix a smile to my face, but it fell like pastry crumbs.

"What the hell was that?" he barked.

I arched my brow and walked past him, trying keep my shoulders straight.

"A wasted opportunity on your part," I quipped.

But before I could get past him, his vice like grip on my arm stopped me in my tracks. I looked at where he held me, his grip not so tight as it was last time. He seemed to recall it too and his hand slid away. I suffocated the little surge of lament in my throat at its absence.

"Why did you do that?" he said, taking a step closer.

I looked down to my hands where I pulled at a particularly nasty hangnail.

"Because I had to," I said after a silence, meeting his gaze once more.

He shifted closer to me, his shoulders still tense, like he was trying to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Silence once again filter in between us. The eerie winds that howled outside the cave whistled down and blew around us. It snapped at his cape and blew a few stray curls across my face. I was surprised my braid had lasted so long. I abandoned the hangnail to brush the hair out of my face but a gloved hand beat me to it. he gently tucked the curls out of my eyes and let his hand hover there. I didn't dare to even breath, scared that I'd chase away this... whatever it was.

But as soon as he'd done it, he'd jerked his hand away again. The moment fell away and he took a step back, then another so that he was walking back towards the ship. I followed him close behind, hoping that whatever strange intimacies we had shared in this cave wouldn't push him away.

"Can't get rid off me that easily, Mando," I said brightly, jogging to walk in line with him. The helmet glanced towards me, the smirk evident in his voice.

"It appears not."

I smiled with relief, pushing down the treacherous thoughts that whirled in my head. My mind was falling into a place I hadn't let it venture to in years. All the alarms and warning signs that blared were being ignored. All the fear that came with the feelings was being forgotten. The bricks were coming down one by one and he didn't even have to try. I'd tear down all these walls just to get him to touch me like that again...

 _Shit._ I was falling hard, wasn't I?


End file.
